(7 


What     ' 
happened 

to 
Wigglesworth 


What 
h appened 

to 
Wiggle  sworth 

byW.  O.  Fuller 


Illustrated  by 
E.  D.  Allen 


Publishers  — Henry    A  . 
Dickerman    &    Son  — 'Boston 
1901 


THESE  sketches  in  their  original  form,  first  appeared  in  the 
New  York    World,  New  York  Recorder  and  Boston  Globe, 
but  as  here  printed  they   have   undergone  extensive  re- 
vision.    The  author  and  publishers  are  pleased  to  acknowledge 
the  courtesy  of  the  editors  in  permitting  their  publication  in 
book  form. 

SECOND  EDITION 


Copyright,   1901 
By  Henry  A.  Dickerman  &  Son 


All  rights  reserved,  also  the  lefts  unless  they  can  be  dis- 
posed of. 

Permission  is  given  to  graduates  of  colleges  of  oratory 
who  may  wish  to  speak  these  pieces,  with  appropriate  gestures, 
at  church  sociables  and  other  public  resorts. 

Playwrights  desiring  to  adapt  them  for  the  stage  should 
address  the  author,  enclosing  stamp. 


To    the    ivtse    woman   <who 
kno<weth  her  oewn  husband 


2135S09 


Preface 


WHEN    Mr.  Wigglesworth  was  enjoying 
his  newspaper  notoriety,  a  great  num- 
ber of  discerning  women,  representing 
every  part  of  our  country,  were  singu- 
larly cordial  in  their  bearing  toward  that  gentleman. 

"  How  extraordinary,"  they  would  write,  "  that, 
never  having  met  my  husband,  you  yet  could  photo- 
graph him  with  such  absolute  fidelity.  It  would 
seem  that  you  must  have  known  him  from  a  boy." 

If  still  other  women  shall  contrive  to  mark  these 
chapters  and  leave  them  open  on  the  sitting-room 
table  ;  if  thereby  the  husbands  of  our  land  shall  have 
their  natures  softened,  and,  bursting  into  tears,  re- 
solve to  lead  a  better  life ;  if  families  thus  benefited 
will  only  recommend  the  cure  to  others,  so  that  in 
every  home  where  the  English  language  is  tortured  a 
copy  of  this  book  eventually  shall  come  to  be  em- 
ployed ;  I  may  feel  that  its  preparation  has  been  not 
altogether  in  vain. 

W.  O.  F. 


A  Soft  Word 


ABRAHAM  LINCOLN  once  said,  "God 
must  love  plain  people,  because  he  made 
so  many  of  them."  Then  humor  must 
be  heaven  born,  because  it  glorifies  the 
commonplace.  It  does  not  deal  in  heroics  ;  it  is  not 
given  to  the  use  of  blank  verse  in  ordinary  conversa- 
tion ;  it  does  not  wrap  itself  in  any  grand  and  gloomy 
peculiarity  to  moralize  over  unutterable  and  unattain- 
able things.  It  has  little  to  do  with  kings  and  heroes, 
and  other  sublime  persons  who  sit  on  thrones  and 
stand  on  pedestals.  But  it  walks  in  the  streets  where 
people  come  and  go ;  it  touches  elbows  with  the 
crowd ;  it  is  at  home  in  the  drawing-room ;  it  is  at 
ease  in  the  office,  in  the  work-shop  and  the  kitchen. 
It  has  love  for  "  whatsoever  things  are  lovely,"  pity 
for  human  sorrow,  smart  contempt  for  arrogance  and 
pretence,  and  hatred  for  shams  of  whatever  sort. 

Mr.  Fuller's  humor  has  no  need  of  the  finger  post 
of  an  introduction.  His  manner  bears  no  stamp  save 
that  of  his  own  personality.  His  characters  introduce 
themselves  as  old  friends,  who  try  to  surprise  us  by 
thinly  disguised  voices,  by  the  change  of  a  beard,  or 
the  innocent  assumption  of  ignorance  of  our  identity. 
The  years,  and^the  beard,  and  the  "  you-have-the  ad- 
vantage-of-me "  cannot  hide  the  sparkle  of  friendship 
in  the  eyes,  and  the  masquerade  under  an  assumed 


10 


A  Soft  Word 

name  or  expression  merely  emphasizes  the  identity 
and  intensifies  the  joy  of  recognition.  The  people 
concerning  whom  Mr.  Fuller  writes  in  these  chronicles, 
he  would  have  us  believe  dwell  in  Maine.  But  I  know 
them  in  Illinois ;  you  have  them  in  New  York ;  they 
are  your  neighbors  in  California.  We  recognize  them 
as  old  friends.  Some  busy  years  have  separated  us  ; 
a  multitude  of  cares  have  swarmed  into  our  lives  and 
driven  them  out  of  our  thought,  and  grateful  are  v 
that  this  apostle  of  humor  suddenly  turns  the  lini> 
light  of  his  humor  upon  the  stage  of  this  old  work- 
day world  of  ours,  revealing  the  little  group  of  actors 
to  our  gaze,  saying,  "  Did  you  ever  see  these  people 
before  ? "  And  our  ready,  happy  looks  of  glad  and 
instant  recognition  contradict  our  "  No  we  never  did  " 
that  goes  with  the  extended  hand  of  welcome  greet- 
ing. Into  his  book,  Mr.  Fuller  has  put  the  laughter 
of  our  own  lives.  Our  highest  and  most  grateful 
appreciation  of  what  he  has  done,  will  be  to  take  the 
laughter  of  his  book  into  our  own  hearts. 


Where    it    all    happened 


A  certified  copy  from  the  records  of  the  town  clerk 
of    Wigglesworth' s    native    burgh    in    Knox    county. 


A  Guide  to  the  Happenings 


HCHV  Wiggleseworth 

Chapter 

Page 

Put  on  the  Screen  Door 

I 

21 

Played  an  April  Fool  Joke 

II 

29 

Beat  the  Carpet 

III 

37 

Gave  a  Surprise  Party 

IV 

47 

Hung  the  Wall  Paper 

V 

55 

Ran  Through 

VI 

65 

Drove  Some  Neat  Bargains 

VII 

75 

Took  off  the  Outside  Windows 

VIII 

83 

Rode  Horseback 

IX 

93 

Played  Croquet 

X 

IOI 

Celebrated  The  Fourth 

XI 

109 

Went  Sailing 

XII 

119 

Mowed  the  Lawn 

XIII 

127 

Rode  a  Bicycle 

XIV 

139 

Caught  the  Burglar 

XV 

i45 

Showed  them  Secrets  of  Haying 

XVI 

153 

Enjoyed  the  Eclipse 

XVII 

163 

Set  up  the  Stove 

XVIII 

171 

Revived  His  Shooting 

XIX 

179 

A  Guide  to  the 

Happenings 

Kept  a  Horse 

Chapter 

XX 

Page 

189 

Cared  for  Wetherbee's  Oleander              XXI 

199 

Studied  Art 

XXII 

207 

Helped  His  Wife  Receive 

XXIII 

215 

Learned  to  Solder 

XXIV 

223 

Endured  Sickness 

XXV 

231 

Kept  Thanksgiving  Day 

XXVI 

241 

Shoveled  Off 

XXVII 

249 

Oiled  the  Hinges 

XXVIII 

257 

Got  Ready  for  Christmas 

XXIX 

265 

Played  Santa  Claus 

XXX 

273 

Swore  Off 

XXXI 

283 

Went  into  Society 

XXXII 

291 

Caught  the  Train 

XXXIII 

301 

Operated  the  Ladder 

XXXIV 

309 

Skated 

XXXV 

317 

Settled  Woman's  Suffrage 

XXXVI 

327 

Renewed  His  Boyhood 

XXXVII 

339 

Got  a  Valentine 

XXXVIII 

347 

Went  to  the  Fire 

XXXIX 

355 

Made  Butter 

XL 

363 

A  Few  Snap  Shots 


Frontispiece 
The  Hon.  Kllery  W.  Wigglesworth.    (Latest  Photo  by  Allen.) 

A  little  further  on 
Map  showing  where  it  all  happened. 

Chapter  l 

"  Giving  utterance  to  a  blood  curdling  laugh.  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
and  the  screen  door  seemed  to  launch  themselves  simultaneously  into 
the  air.  "  —  Page  20. 

Chapter  2 
"  And  the  hired  girl  bothered  us  a  good  deal.  "  —  Page  28. 

Chapter  3 

"While  his  wife  fell  forward  with  terrible  vigor,  and  was  enabled  to 
smite  her  husband  six  or  seven  times  in  rapid  succession.  "  —  Page  36. 

Chapter  4 

"But  it  was  some  moments  before  Mr.  Wetherbee  and  the  minister 
could  get  the  man  with  the  red  whiskers  and  Mr.  Wigglesworth  sep- 
arated."—Page  46. 

Chapter  5 

"The  paper  letting  go  its  hold  and  transferring  its  affections  to  the 
falling  fortunes  of  the  house  of  Wigglesworth.  "  — Page  54. 

Chapter  6 

"  With  a  mighty  up-gathering  of  strength  Mr.  Wigglesworth  started 
forward.  "  —  Page  64. 

•  Chapter  7 

"  The  first  zip  of  water  caught  the  fat  man  in  the  neck.  "  —  Page  74. 

Chapter  8 

"She  dashed  after  the  barrel  and  falling  upon  it  with  a  hysterical 
cry  rolled  completely  over  it.  "  — Page  82. 

Chapter  9 

"  At  every  third  bound  of  the  horse,  a  bound  shorter  and  more 
skippy  than  the  other  two,  the  rider  would  go  into  the  air.  "  —  Page  92. 

Chapter  10 

"At  every  blow,  struck  with  terrific  violence,  a  wire  wicket  would 
go  sailing  through  the  air.  "  —  Page  100. 

Chapter  11 

"  Me  and  the  Dodley  twins  used  to  stay  out  all  night  firing  guns  and 
making  more  noise  than  a  horse  could  haul.  "  —  Page  108. 

Chapter  12 
"'O-o-h-h,  EHery, '  she  moaned.  "  —  Page  118. 

15 


A  Few  Snap  Shots 


Chapter  13 

"  '  Get  out  of  the  way,  then, '  snapped  Mr.  Wigglesworth.  "  —  Page 
123. 

Chapter  14 
" '  Hold  her  up  there ! '  he  cried.  "  —  Pace  136. 

Chapter  15 
"  '  See  anything, '  he  whispered.  "  —  Page  143. 

Chapter  16 

" '  Ketch  hold  of  her,  •  screamed  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  sawing  wildly 
at  the  reins.  "  —  Page  152. 

Chapter  17 

" '  Oh,  yes. '  cried  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  glaring  across  the  table, '  that's 
it.'"— Page  162. 

Chapter  18 

"'Where's  that  hired  girl?'  snarled  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  pausing  to 
wipe  his  face.  "  —  Page  170. 

Chapter  19 

"  '  Sh  ! '  hissed  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  with  an  angry  whisper,  *  can't  ye 
keep  quiet?    He's  on  a  point. '  "  —  Page  178. 

Chapter  20 

"'  O,  EHery, '  she  screamed  with  a  woman's  presence  of  mind,  '  come 
away  instantly. '  "  —  Page  188. 

Chapter  21 

"Therefore  they  knew  that  the  weight  of  the  oleander  had  tem- 
porarily unhinged  his  reason.  "  —  Page  198. 

Chapter  22 
"  'Is  —  is  that  oatmeal?  '  he  slowly  inquired.  "  —  Page  206. 

Chapter  23 

" '  Want  to  keep  me  here  grinding  this  old  crank  until   Christmas, 
don't  ye?" '  —  Page  214. 

Chapter  24 

"At  that  instant  Imogene  suddenly  opened  the  door  with  a  snap  that 
was  imparted  to  the  vertebrae  of  Mr.  Wigglesworth.  "  —  Page  222. 

Chapter  25 

"'Going  to  let  me  perish  herein  the  dark?'  he  snapped;  '  where's 
that  fat-headed  doctor  ?  '"  —  Page  230. 

Chapter  26 
"Then  he  grabbed  it  in  his  teeth  —  Roscoe  did,  you  understand.  "  — 

Page  240. 

Chapter  27 
"Petrified,  the  minister  stood  on  the  walk. "  —  Page  248. 

Chapter  28 

"But  he  was  bothered  at  the  office  all  through  the  afternoon."  — 
Page  256. 

Chapter  29 

"'Why,  EHery!'  she  call«"d,  'what  have  you  got  there?'" —Page 
264. 

16 


A  Few  Snap  Shots 


Chapter  30 

"'What'd  I  tell  ye?'  he  snapped,  calling1  attention  to  his  trussed 
legs;  ' ain't  I  a  dandy  Santa  Claus ?'"  —  Page  272. 

Chapter  31 
"'It's  something  broke  out  of  somewhere.'  "  —  Page  283. 

Chapter  32 
"  '  Mind  the  lamp  ! '  warned  the  host."  —  Page  290. 

Chapter  33 

"  •  Emma  ! '  he  shouted  rushing  to  the  head  of  the  stairs,  •  where'o 
them  shirt  studs ? '  "—Page  300. 

Chapter  34 

•'  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  with  a  loud  shriek,  disappeared  from  view 
into  the  neighboring  premises.  "  —  Page  308. 

Chapter  35 

"  '  I'm  going  to  show  ye  how  me  and  Aleck  Dodley  used  to  do  a  spread 
eagle. '"  — Page  316. 

Chapter  36 

"The  marshal  will  conduct  him  as  our  welcome  guest  to  a  seat. "  — 
Page  326. 

Chapter  37 
"  It  was  a  snowball  with  a  marble  heart.  "  —  Page  338. 

Chapter  38 

"  '  Yah-yah-yah  ! '    snarled    Mr.  Wigglesworth  as   he  slammed  the 
front  door.  "  —  Page  346. 

Chapter  39 

"'Where's   the  fire?'    ejaculated  Mr.   Wigglesworth,    puffing   vio- 
lently."   '"Wot  fire's  this?1    the    policeman   calmly  made  reply."  — 

Page"  354. 

Chapter  40 

"  Alexander,  the  cat,  got  up  in  a  chair  and  watched  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth  as  he  poured  the  milk  into  the  churn. "  —  Page  362. 


Chapter  I 

How  Wiggle&worth 
Put  on  the 
Screen  Door 


"Giving  utterance  to  a  blood-curdling  laugh  Mr.  Wiggles- 
•worth  and  the  screen  door  appeared  to  launch  themselves  into 
the  air  simultaneously." — Page  25. 


What    happened 
to    Wigglesworth 


CHAPTER  I.—  How    Wigglesworth    Put    on 
the  Screen  Door 

H,  dear !  "  sighed  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  "  I 
do  wish  you'd  put  on  the  screen  door, 
Ellery.  The  flies  are  just  getting  into 
the  house  awfully." 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  puffed  contentedly  at  his  noon- 
day cigar,  while  his  wife  continued  to  cavort  about 
the  hall,  frenziedly  directing  the  attention  of  a  scared 
fly  toward  the  front  door  with  her  apron. 

"  Do  you  hear,  Ellery  ? "  she  called,  aiming  a  des- 
perate blow  with  the  apron  and  knocking  a  portrait  of 
Henry  Clay  into  an  italic  position.  The  fly  smiled. 

"  Ellery  !  "  she  called  again,  "  do  you  hear  ? " 

"Think  I'm  deef?"  retorted  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
with  a  tinge  of  sarcasm;  "reckon  I'm  the  stone 
sphinx  of  Rameses  III.,  don't  ye?" 

"You  don't  answer  me,"  pouted  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth,  waiting  for  the  fly  to  alight.  "  I  asked  when 
you  were  going  to  put  on  the  screen  door  ? " 

"Where  is  it  ? "  asked  her  husband  abruptly. 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know,"  returned  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth,  appearing  in  the  door  and  leaving  the  fly  tc 
chuckle  over  his  triumph. 


H&w  Wigglesworth 


"Well,"  said  Mr.  Wigglesworth  testily,  "how  ye 
think  I'm  going  to  put  on  a  screen  door  unless  ye 
prance  it  out  where  a  feller  can  get  at  it  ? " 

"You  took  it  off,  the  .first  of  the  winter,"  replied 
his  wife;  "don't  you  remember,  Ellery,  how  late  it 
got,  with  snow  on  the  ground,  and  the  neighbors 
laughing  at  you  and  saying  you  always  leave  it  on 
after  the  snow  flies  —  he-he-he  1 " 

"He-he-he!"  sneered  Mr.  Wigglesworth  angrily; 
"  you  think  you  're  mighty  smart,  don't  ye,  repeating 
somebody's  old,  stale  chestnuts." 

"  I  thought  it  a  pretty  good  joke  on  you,"  said  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth ;  "  it  was  such  a  good  pun,  you  know." 

"  Oh,  yes,  it  was  a  great  pun,"  snorted  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth, his  face  taking  on  a  purple  cast ;  "  must 
have  been  great  for  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  to  see  it  — 
must  have  loomed  up  like  a  stone  church." 

"  I  think  I  can  see  a  joke  as  quick  as  most  people," 
said  that  lady,  with  a  show  of  spirit. 

"  Course  you  can,"  sniffed  her  husband ;  "  you  can 
see  'em  quicker  than  the  man  that  gets  'em  up.  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth,  the  long-expected  American  Humorist, 
author  of  Wigglesworth's  Annual  Almanac  and  other 
well-known  works  of  humor.  Now  is  the  time  to  sub- 
scribe. That 's  what  you  are." 

Enveloping  himself  in  this  cloud  of  persiflage  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  disappeared  in  it  up  the  front  stairs, 
while  his  wife  proceeded  to  worry  the  fly  from  the 
parlor  curtains,  behind  which  covert  he  had  disap- 
peared in  company  with  a  mocking  laugh. 

22 


Put  on  the  Screen  Door 


Mr.  Wigglesworth  snatched  his  way  through  the 
attic  in  a  hurried  manner  that  left  a  disordered  array 
of  trunks  and  feather  beds  and  antique  clothing  in  his 
wake.  Somebody  must  have  broken  into  the  house 
in  the  night  and  nailed  down  every  window,  so  that 
the  sun,  smiting  ambitiously  at  the  shingles  on  the 
roof,  diffused  a  mellow  warmth  through  the  attic, 
glueing  Mr.  Wigglesworth's  garments  to  every  avail- 
able portion  of  that  gentleman's  anatomy  and  creating 
a  storm  center  that  seemed  likely  to  be  heard  from 
directly. 

"  Gash-flummux  the  old  screen  1 "  yelled  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  putting  his  foot  into  a  bandbox  that  had  be- 
longed to  his  wife's  Aunt  Caroline,  who  had  once 
died  quite  unexpectedly  and  left  very  little  else. 
"  What  they  got  it  hid  away  in  this  way  for  ?  What 's 
the  use  to  poke  it  away  up  here  in  the  air  when  they 
might  have  sunk  an  artesian  well  and  buried  it? 
Think  I  'm  Dr.  Nansen,  don't  they  ? "  and  as  he  came 
to  this  bitter  conclusion  Mr.  Wigglesworth  struck  his 
head  with  a  hollow  sound  against  an  unexpected  rafter 
and  lit  up  the  whole  attic  with  a  sudden,  lurid  glare. 

"  That 's  it ! "  he  shrieked,  clawing  an  Early  English 
hoopskirt  from  a  nail  and  getting  both  arms  mysteri- 
ously involved  with  it ;  "  that 's  the  way !  "  he  added, 
hoarsely,  bursting  open  a  discarded  pillow  with  a  kick 
and  taking  a  large  quantity  of  feathers  into  his  dis- 
tended nostrils. 

But  this  brought  him  to  the  screen  door.  He  re- 
membered, now,  how  he  had  struggled  up  there  with 

23 


How  Wtgglesivorth 


it  some  months  ago  and  flung  it  disdainfully  into  a 
corner.  With  a  smothered  shriek  of  rage  mingled 
with  feathers  Mr.  Wigglesworth  fell  upon  the  door 
and  dragged  it  forward. 

He  did  n't  believe  it  possible  —  he  confessed  this, 
afterwards,  to  the  doctor  —  that  they  had  been  house- 
keeping long  enough  to  accumulate  so  many  trunks 
and  wooden  boxes  as  that  door  attached  itself  to  dur- 
ing its  short  but  eventful  journey  toward  the  attic 
stairs.  But  Mr.  Wigglesworth's  blood  was  up  and 
he  'd  have  ripped  the  lids  off  twice  as  many  trunks  if 
the  door  had  held  together  long  enough  for  him  to  do 
so. 

And  now  and  then  he  would  pause  and  clutch 
madly  at  the  old  hoopskirt,  whose  sinuous  coils  had 
enveloped  his  back  and  shoulders  like  the  fangs  of 
the  deadly  upas  tree. 

"  Suffering  Columbus !  "  Mr.  Wigglesworth  would 
shriek,  and  his  voice  would  stir  the  clouds  of  feathers 
that  had  come  out  of  that  one  little  pillow  and  rilled 
the  entire  attic.  Even  amid  the  perspiring  horror  of 
the  situation  Mr.  Wigglesworth  paused  to  note  this 
singular  circumstance. 

He  and  the  screen  door  got  down  the  attic  stairs 
together.  He  never  understood  how.  People  who 
subsequently  called  in  to  talk  it  over  with  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth,  and  were  brought  up  stairs  by  that 
lady  to  view  the  situation,  shook  their  heads  and  said 
that  they  didn't  either.  It  was  a  crooked  flight  of 
stairs,  with  a  pain  that  doubled  them  up  in  the 

24 


Put  on  the  Screen  Door 


middle,  and  they  were  narrow  and  their  whole  general 
course  instinctively  suggested  a  Keeley  cure.  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  said  he  remembered  arriving  at  the  top 
step,  with  the  door  in  his  grasp,  and  later  he  found 
himself  wedged  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  the  door 
being  still  with  him,  but  of  what  took  place  in  the 
meantime  he  has  n't  the  slightest  recollection.  One 
of  the  callers  found  a  curly  piece  of  sun-tanned  cuticle 
hanging  on  a  nail  near  where  the  stairs  forked,  which 
on  being  spread  out  was  found  to  exactly  fit  an  open 
place  on  the  back  of  Mr.  Wigglesworth's  neck.  So  it 
is  believed  he  must  have  passed  down  that  way. 

"  Hark ! "  said  the  minister  who  had  rung  the  bell 
in  the  course  of  his  parish  calls  and  was  being  smil- 
ingly admitted  by  Mrs.  Wigglesworth ;  "  what  is  that 
dreadful  noise  ? " 

It  was  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  struggling  to  his  feet 
and  making  use  of  the  first  word  that  came  to  hand. 
Then  he  poked  the  end  of  the  screen  door  over  the 
bannister  rail. 

"What  ye  doing  down  there? "he  yelled  to  his 
wife ;  "  think  I  'm  going  to  give  up  my  whole  noon 
rest  digging  out  screen  doors  for  you  ? " 

"  Don't  try  to  come  down  the  stairs  alone  with  it, 
I  beg  of  you,  Ellery,"  cried  Mrs.  Wigglesworth, 
clasping  her  hands;  "you'll  scratch  the  wood-work 
and " 

Giving  utterance  to  a  blood-curdling  laugh,  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  and  the  screen  door  appeared  to  launch 
themselves  into  the  air  simultaneously,  like  that 

25 


Put  on  the  Screen  Door 


mythological  god  of  something  that  the  minister  re- 
membered speaking  about  in  one  of  his  sermons,  but 
whose  name  for  the  moment  escaped  him.  Mr. 
Wigglesworth's  arms  appeared  to  be  fastened  at  the 
elbows  with  the  hoopskirt  that  clustered  about  his 
back,  somewhat  fettering  his  existence,  and  his  new 
spring  coat  was  quite  lost  sight  of  for  the  feathers. 
Then  he  suddenly  put  both  of  his  legs  through  the 
screen  door  and  the  next  instant  the  whole  procession 
arrived  in  the  hall  with  a  crash  that  sounded  like  the 
collapse  of  an  early  presidential  boom. 

"  My  darling  Ellery  !  "  sobbed  Mrs.  Wigglesworth, 
rushing  forward. 

"Screen  doors  put  up  I"  shrieked  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth  in  a  thick  voice ;  "  I  'm  Ellery  Wigglesworth, 
the  celebrated  screen  doorist.  I  'm  Ellery  W.  Wig- 
glesworth, the  well-known  philanthropist  who  goes 
around  putting  up  screen  doors  for  the  poor. 
I'm " 

But  then  they  saw  that  his  mind  wandered  and 
they  unthreaded  his  legs  from  the  wires  with  all  the 
tenderness  they  were  capable  of. 


Chapter  II 

Haw  Wigglesxvorth 
Played  an  April 
Fool  Joke 


/A*. 


And  the  hired  girl  bothered  us  a  good  deal.'"— Page 33. 


CHAPTER  11.  — How    Wigglesworth    Played 
an  April  Fool  Joke 


H 


E!  he!  he!"    snickered  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth,  as  she  bent  over  her  work. 

"What    ye    laughing    at?"    asked 
Mr.    Wigglesworth,    without    looking 
up   from  his  paper. 

"  I  was  thinking,"  answered  his  wife,  shaking  her 
head  and  smiling. 

"Well,  don't  let  it  occur  again!"  retorted  Mr. 
Wigglesworth.  "  How's  anybody  going  to  know  what 
to  look  for  when  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  gets  to  think- 
ing?" 

"  I  was  thinking  about  April  Fool's  Day,"  said 
Mrs  Wigglesworth,  unheeding  her  husband's  pleas- 
antry. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  stared  over  the  top  of  his  paper, 
and  broke  into  a  grin. 

"That's  natural  enough,  though,"  he  said,  with  a 
loud  chuckle,  and  then  he  nodded  to  himself  in  the 
glass. 

"What  a  strange  custom  it  is,"  Mrs.  Wiggleworth 
continued,  reflectively,  "this  playing  of  jokes  upon 
people.  I  suppose  it  dates  back  ever  so  many  years. 
Did  you  ever  have  any  jokes  played  on  you,  Ellery  ? " 

"Well,  I  guess  I  didn't,"  said  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
blowing  out  his  lips ;  "  but  I  Ve  played  enough  of  'em 

29 


Ho<w  Wigglesworth 


on  other  people,"  he  added,  reminiscently.  "  Me  and 
the  Dodley  twins  used  to  be  the  greatest  fellers  for 
April  fooling  you  ever  saw,  when  we  were  boys." 

"What  did  you  do?"  asked  Mrs.  Wiggles  worth. 

"Do?"  echoed  her  husband;  "why  —  everything; 
what  ye  s'pose?  Used  to  fool  people,  of  course. 
Aleck  Dodley  used  to  get  up  the  greatest  tricks  you 
ever  heard  of.  But  they  couldn't  none  of  'em  get 
anything  onto  Aleck  and  me,"  concluded  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth ;  "  we  was  too  smart  for  *em." 

"  I  'm  sure  you  were,"  said  his  wife,  knotting  her 
thread. 

"I  don't  suppose,"  said  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  "that 
I  've  had  a  joke  played  on  me  since  I  was  ten  years  old." 

"I  don't  believe  anybody  could  fool  me  either," 
said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth. 

"Huh!"  said  her  husband,  as  he  turned  to  his 
paper,  and  then  in  a  flash,  as  such  things  always 
come,  was  born  within  him  a  mighty  suggestion. 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  retired  still  further  into  the  paper, 
to  hide  the  grin  which  this  suggestion  engendered. 

By  and  by  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  laid  down  her  work 
and  vanished  into  the  kitchen  with  some  instructions 
for  Imogene  connected  with  bread  mixing.  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  hastily  blew  out  the  lights,  knowing 
from  her  custom  that  his  wife  would  go  up  to  bed  by 
way  of  the  kitchen  stairs.  Then  he  dashed  noise- 
lessly up  the  front  way. 

"Can't  fool  you,  eh?"  he  chuckled,  as  he  stole  to 
the  top  of  the  back  stairs. 

3° 


Played  an  cApril  Fool  Joke 


Here  he  quickly  arranged,  through  the  medium  of 
a  chair,  a  pitcher  of  water  and  an  ingeniously  adjusted 
bit  of  cord,  such  a  practical  joke  as  the  Dodley  twins 
themselves,  in  their  most  twinly  moments,  might 
have  looked  upon  with  envy. 

Mr.  Wiggles  worth's  face  purpled  with  suppressed 
laughter. 

"Oh,  no,  we  can't  fool  you  !"  he  giggled,  slapping 
his  leg.  Then  he  removed  the  light,  and  the  am- 
bushed water  pitcher  felt  a  shudder  creep  through  its 
handle,  as  the  horror  of  the  situation  was  made  evident. 

"Emma!"  bawled  Mr.  Wigglesworth  down  the 
stairs;  "ain't  ye  coming  to  bed?"  Then  he  winked 
to  himself  in  the  darkness. 

"  Oh,  are  you  up  there,  Ellery  ? "  answered  his 
wife,  putting  her  head  in  at  the  gloomy  stairway ; 
"  I  've  been  looking  for  you  everywhere.  Run  to  the 
front  door,  quick  1  Somebody's  been  ringing  the  bell 
for  five  minutes,  and  I  can't  go  because  my  hands 
are  all  flour." 

It  was  Mr.  Wetherbee,  who  had  come  over  to 
borrow  Mr.  Wigglesworth's  gun. 

"Going  to  try  the  rabbits  in  the  morning,"  he  said. 

"Come  right  in!"  said  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  drag- 
ging at  his  neighbor  cordially. 

Mr.  Wetherbee  being  an  endorser  on  his  note,  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  was  anxious  to  show  him  every  consid- 
eration. He  soon  had  the  lamps  alight  likewise  a 
couple  of  cigars,  and  for  half  an  hour  conversation 
flowed  merrily. 

31 


How  Wiggtescworth 


"I'll  get  the  gun  for  you,"  then  remarked  Mr. 
Wigglesvvorth. 

It  was  n't  in  the  back  hall,  where  he  distinctly  re- 
membered leaving  it,  nor  could  he  find  it  in  the  shed, 
where  he  knew  it  ought  to  be,  and  where  he  next 
sought  for  it,  muttering. 

"  What  ye  done  with  that  gun  ? "  he  called  quer- 
luously,  to  his  wife ;  "  why  can't  ye  leave  things 
where  I  put  'em  ?  Where  ye  hid  it  ? " 

"  It's  on  the  attic  stairs,"  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  re- 
plied, her  hands  in  the  bread ;  "  you  left  it  there  last 
week,  you  know." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  know,"  snapped  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
dashing  for  the  back  stairs ;  "  I  know  I  left  it  in  the 
shed.  That's  what  I  know,"  and  he  vanished  up  the 
stairway. 

The  unthinking  person,  who  is  not  in  the  habit  of 
thinking  for  himself,  will  be  likely  to  affirm  with  un- 
due haste  that  here  is  a  situation  invented  by  the 
novelist,  and  yet  may  we  not,  with  our  hands  upon 
our  respective  hearts,  candidly  acknowledge  that  it 
was  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world,  in  the  con- 
fusion consequent  upon  the  advent  of  Mr.  Wetherbee, 
and  the  exasperating  search  for  the  gun,  for  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth to  slip  some  of  the  cogs  that  operated  his 
organ  of  recollection  ? 

And  meantime,  while  we  are  doing  this,  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  is  rushing  up  those  stairs  in  the 
dark. 

Zipl 

32 


Played  an  April  Fool  Joke 


That  was  the  cord,  tied  ingeniously  across  the  stair- 
way. 

Crash  I 

That  was  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  ras  his  head  dashed 
through  the  rounds  of  the  chair. 

Bang! 

That  was  the  general  round-up,  as  the  water  pitcher 
turned  its  contents  down  Mr.  Wiggles  worth's  neck 
and  the  whole  procession,  debouching  in  fine  order, 
took  up  its  line  of  march  for  the  kitchen. 

"  I  didn't  know  him  at  first,"  said  Mr.  Wetherbee, 
in  explaining  it  afterward  to  his  wife.  "  It  was  the 
most  terrific  noise  you  ever  heard.  I  got  there  in 
two  seconds,  but  Wigglesworth  beat  me,  with  hours 
to  spare.  By  that  time  he  had  got  his  head  clean 
through  the  chair,  the  rope  had  tied  him  from  head  to 
foot  as  he  rolled  down,  and  he  'd  stuck  one  leg  so  far 
into  the  pitcher  that  we  had  to  break  it  to  get 
it  off." 

"  Break  the  —  "  interrupted  his  wife  anxiously. 

"The  pitcher,"  replied  Mr.  Wetherbee.  "And 
the  hired  girl  bothered  us  a  good  deal." 

"  What  did  she  do  ? "  wondered  Mrs.  Wetherbee. 

"That's  it,"  explained  her  husband;  "you  see,  she 
couldn't  do  anything,  having  fainted  very  early,  and 
buried  her  face  so  deep  in  the  pan  of  batter  that  I 
thought  at  first  she  never  again  would  break  a  royal 
Worcester  saucer." 

"  But  what  was-  it  all  about  ?  "  inquired  Mrs.  Weth- 
erbee. 

33 


Played  an  April  Fool  Joke. 


Mr.  Wetherbee  carefully  unbuttoned  his  collar  and 
laid  it  on  the  bureau. 

"  Wigglesworth,"  he  said  slowly,  "  was  making  an 
April  fool  of  —  of  —  his  wife  " 


34 


Chapter  III 


Wigglescworth 
Beat  the  Carpet 


"  While  his  wife  *  *  *  fell  forward  with  redoubled  vij 
and  was  enabled  to  smite  her  husband  six  or  seven  times  in  raj 
succession." —  Page  44. 


CHAPTER    III.— How     Wigglesworth    Beat 
the  Carpet 

"^W  "W"  "TELL,  what's  the  matter  now?"  Mr. 

^  /m  /  Wigglesworth  wanted  to  know  in  his 
^y  ^y  strong  tone  of  masculine  sympathy, 
as  he  sat  down  to  the  dinner  table. 

"Matter  enough,"  his  wife  replied,  her  forehead 
wrinkled  with  care ;  "  here  I  Ve  been  waiting  and 
waiting  all  the  forenoon  for  the  man  to  come  and 
take  up  the  parlor  carpet  and  clean  it.  He  promised 
faithfully  he  'd  do  it,  and  I  've  got  the  parlor  all  torn 
up,  but  no  man." 

"  That 's  right,"  Mr.  Wigglesworth  commented,  as 
he  looked  across  at  his  wife,  "put  three  lumps  of 
sugar  in  my  coffee  —  that  '11  even  things  up  in  great 
shape.  Never  saw  anybody  like  you  for  striking  an 
average.  Think  I  'm  a  monthly  balance  sheet,  don't 
ye  ? " 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  apologized.  "But  you've  no 
idea  how  annoying  it  is,"  she  said,  her  voice  quaver- 
ing. 

"Poohl"  returned  her  husband;  "I  never  saw 
such  a  thing  as  a  woman  is  to  let  little  matters  upset 
her.  Where  is  this  carpet?"  he  cried  grandly;  "let 
me  get  at  it,  if  you  want  to  see  the  fur  fly  1 " 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  with  considerable  trepidation 
followed  him  into  the  parlor.  A  woman  rightly  dis- 
trusts her  husband  under  such  circumstances. 

37 


How  Wigglesworth 


"  Be  careful ! "  she  fluttered,  as  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
backed  up  against  a  group  of  statuary  and  set  it 
rocking. 

"Why,  cert!"  Mr.  Wigglesworth  jocularly  re- 
sponded ;  "  that 's  the  way  —  that 's  the  way  to  clean 
a  carpet  —  man  ought  to  put  on  woolen  gloves  and 
not  get  too  near  for  fear  of  touching  it  I  Come  out 
of  that  1 "  he  continued  smartly,  seizing  a  loose  corner 
and  ripping  out  a  whole  course  of  tacks ;  "  better  send 
out  and  get  another  man  1  What 's  the  matter  with 
waiting  till  spring  planting  is  over  ?  Why  not  adver- 
tise for  the  unemployed  at  highest  wages  ? " 

The  delivery  of  these  sentences,  in  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth's  choicest  vein,  was  accompanied  with  such  a 
ripping  out  of  tacks,  as  the  street  never  before  had 
witnessed.  True,  little  pieces  of  the  carpet  also 
ripped  out  here  and  there  and  mingled  with  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth's  regrets,  but  in  a  period  of  time  that 
was  surprising  for  its  brevity  her  husband  had  scram- 
bled the  breadths  of  that  carpeting  into  a  heap  at  the 
middle  of  the  floor,  and  she  jcould  see  him  through 
the  dust  mopping  off  his  forehead. 

"Don't  s'pose  you  like  the  methods  of  Wiggles- 
worth  ? "  he  called ;  "  'druther  pay  a  man  three  dollars, 
would  n't  ye  ? " 

"But — but  the  hard  work  comes  in  —  in  the  beat- 
ing," Mrs.  Wigglesworth  explained.  Imogene  and  I 
could  get  out  the  tacks ;  what  I  wanted  the  man  for 
was  to  beat  out  the  dust." 

"Two  dollars  more  —  that's  what  that  means,"  re- 

38 


Beat  the  Carpet 

torted  her  husband.  "  I  '11  show  ye  how  to  save 
money  instead  of  spending  it  like  water,"  he  added, 
whereupon  he  grabbed  the  carpet  and  dragged  it  out 
to  the  lawn,  trailing  it  through  two  other  rooms,  to 
the  detriment  of  several  articles  of  bric-a-brac. 

"  Where  ye  going  to  hang  the  thing  ? "  he  said,  after 
vainly  peering  up  into  the  heavens  and  off  across  the 
country ;  "  think  I  'm  going  to  hold  it  up  with  one 
hand  and  slap  it  with  the  other  ? " 

"There's  a  piece  of  rope  in  the  cellar,"  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth  volunteered,  and  her  husband,  mutter- 
ing, went  and  got  it.  One  end  he  tied  to  a  tree  and 
the  other  with  much  difficulty  and  standing  on  a 
barrel  he  made  fast  to  a  water-spout  at  the  side  of 
the  house. 

"There!"  he  triumphantly  cried,  as  he  stepped 
down  from  the  barrel,  "  how 's  that  for  three  dollars  a 
day  ? " 

"  How  are  you  going  to  get  the  carpet  over  it  ? " 
his  wife  ventured. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  turned  an  eye  up  at  the  rope, 
which  was  eight  feet  above  sea-level. 

"Why  didn't  ye  tell  me  I  was  putting  the  thing 
up  too  high?"  he  snapped;  "what's  the  use  to  be  a 
fool  in  your  own  front  yard  ? " 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  noticed  that  the  neighbors  in 
three  adjacent  houses  were  looking  out  of  window  at 
him,  and  he  had  to  keep  his  voice  down  on  that  ac- 
count. Probably  nothing  in  the  world  makes  a  man 
so  unhappy  as  to  have  to  curb  his  voice  when  his 

39 


H&w  Wiggle&worth 


emotions  are  all  tending  in  the  opposite  direction,  and 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  showed 'that  he  felt  that  way  as 
he  laboriously  remounted  the  barrel  and  lowered  the 
rope.  Then  with  infinite  pains  he  dragged  the  carpet 
over  it  —  it  was  a  stiff,  unyielding  carpet  with  huge 
red  roses  blowing  luxuriantly  upon  a  purple  ground — 
and  he  was  not  in  the  least  mollified  at  discovering 
that,  this  done,  half  of  the  carpet  yet  trailed  upon 
the  soggy  lawn. 

"What  ye  grinning  at?"  he  said  in  a  voice  that 
hissed  through  his  clenched  teeth. 

"I  —  I  was  n't  grinning  1 "  stammered  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth. 

"  Yes  ye  was  too  1 "  he  snarled.  "  You  think  it 
smart  to  stand  there  sucking  in  your  lips  and  looking 
knowing,  with  all  these  freckle-faced  neighbors  gawk- 
ing out  at  us,  but  I  '11  show  ye  that  the  whole  kit  and 
boodle  of  ye  can 't  put  me  down  1  Why  don't  ye  go 
fetch  that  clothes-pole?"  he  shouted,  his  voice  slip- 
ping away  from  him ;  "  think  I  can  stay  away  from  the 
office  all  day  just  to  save  money  for  you  ?  Why  don't 
ye  prance  round  and  do  something  if  you  expect  me 
to  help  you  out ! " 

So  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  got  the  clothes  pole  and  her 
husband  braced  it  under  one  end  of  the  line,  which 
promptly  sent  the  carpet  slipping  to  the  other  end. 

"Don't  talk  like  that!"  pleaded  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  as  her  husband  grabbed  the  carpet  and  snatched 
it  back ;  "  suppose  the  minister  should  be  going  by  1 " 

"Where's  that  hired  girl!"  called  Mr.  Wiggles- 
40 


Beat  the  Carpet 

worth,  not  heeding  his  wife's  injunction ;  "  what  ye 
done  with  that  female  consolidation  of  household 
errors?  Why  ain't  she  out  here  doing  some  good 
instead  of  staying  there  in  the  kitchen  putting  her 
thumb  through  valuable  dishes?" 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  brought  forth  Imogene,  wiping 
her  hands  on  the  under  side  of  her  apron. 

"  Here  you  !  "  Mr.  Wigglesworth  said  in  an  author- 
itative tone,  "  take  this  rake  and  pry  up  this  end  of 
the  rope  with  it.  Not  that  way  1 "  he  shouted  as 
Imogene  with  great  earnestness  seized  the  rake  and 
gave  it  a  mighty  hoist ;  "  you  don't  have  to  hitch  it 
over  the  corner  of  Jupiter.  Just  hold  it  straight, 
that 's  all  you've  got  to  do." 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  then  grasped  a  bean-pole  and 
smote  the  carpet  a  blow.  The  hired  girl,  being  new 
to  the  business,  found  the  rake  suddenly  knocked  out 
of  her  hand,  and  the  huge  carpet  slipping  down  upon 
her.  Mr.  Wigglesworth  danced  right  up  in  the 
air. 

"  Where  'd  ye  get  this  imported  aggregation  of 
imbecility?"  he  snorted,  pulling  the  carpet  off  the 
girl,  whom  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  assisted  to  her  feet ; 
"can't  she  boost  a  simple  wooden  rake  into  the  air 
without  introducing  her  foreign  numheadedness  into 
the  performance  ? " 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  said  some  encouraging  things 
to  the  girl,  who  resumed  the  rake,  while  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  growling  uninterruptedly,  picked  up  his  bean- 
pole. 

41 


H&w  Wiggles'worth 


"  Shan't  I  help  you  ? "  his  wife  asked,  desirous  of 
showing  her  interest. 

"Lots  of  help  you'd  be!"  grumbled  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  but  he  consented,  and  his  wife  fetched  a  stick 
from  the  shed. 

"  Don't  hit  it  too  hard,"  warned  her  husband,  grin- 
ning, as  he  saw  the  stick ;  "  don't  strike  it  under  the 
guard  and  mash  in  its  ribs."  Soothed  in  a  measure 
by  these  humorous  sallies  Mr.  Wigglesworth  raised 
his  pole  and  caught  the  red  roses  a  number  of  re- 
sounding thwacks.  The  hired  girl  surged  forward 
and  back  with  the  wobblings  of  the  rake,  but  main- 
tained her  ground  valiantly.  Great  clouds  of  dust 
writhed  out  of  the  carpet's  folds  and  enveloped  Mr. 
Wigglesworth. 

"What  ye  doing  that  for  ? "  he  shouted,  coughing 
and  spluttering  and  stamping  about  the  lawn ;  "  what 
ye  want  to  pound  all  that  dirt  into  my  face  for  ? " 

"I  —  I  didn't  do  it,"  replied  his  wife;  "I  hadn't 
begun  yet." 

"Hadn't  begun!"  echoed  Mr.  Wigglesworth  in  his 
angriest  tone,  as  he  wiped  his  eyes ;  "  why  had  n't  ye  ? 
What  ye  standing  round  here  for,  making  me  do  all 
the  work  ?  Ain't  you  just  as  well  able  to  hit  this  car- 
pet as  I  am  ?  Now  lay  on,  and  strike  for  all  you  're 
worth,  and  see'f  you  can't  do  something." 

Animated  by  this  heroic  injunction  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  accompanied  her  husband  into  the  conflict. 
The  carpet  was  between  them,  and  as  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth  laid  on  with  his  bean-pole,  Mrs.  Wigglesworth, 

42 


Beat  the  Carpet 

shutting  both  eyes,  waltzed  in.  The  neighbors,  who 
by  this  time  had  got  their  windows  open  and  were 
leaning  out,  said  afterwards  that  they  never  believed 
it  possible  one  frail  woman  could  in  so  short  a  time 
discover  such  a  marvelous  facility  for  hitting  at  things 
that  were  n't  there,  and  one  of  them,  a  maiden  lady 
in  glasses,  in  rehearsing  the  scene  at  the  sewing 
circle,  said  that  even  Mr.  Wigglesworth's  remarks 
were  quite  lost  sight  of  in  the  wonderment  that  his 
wife's  abnormal  gestures  awakened. 

The  first  clip  that  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  struck  fell  a 
little  short  of  the  carpet,  and  so  swung  her  twice 
around,  causing  her  brain  to  reel  with  dizziness,  but 
stimulated  by  the  cries  of  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  carpet,  she  again  uplifted  her 
weapon,  and  keeping  her  eyes  steadfastly  shut,  waded 
forward.  How,  being  lost  in  her  bearings,  she  first 
charged  up  against  the  clothes-pole  and  fetched  it 
loose,  is  not  yet  clearly  understood,  but  turning  she 
made  her  way  back,  brandishing  her  stick  with  super- 
human energy  and  cleaving  the  empty  air  with 
tremendous  blows.  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  unconscious 
of  his  wife's  flank  movement,  was  pounding  industri- 
ously away,  spitting  out  dust  and  quotations  at  every 
stroke,  and  the  first  intimation  he  received  that  death 
was  loose  and  riding  in  his  direction  was  a  swinging 
clap  of  his  wife's  weapon  that  met  him  at  the  back  of 
the  neck,  doubling  him  into  the  carpet  with  incredible 
swiftness  and  temporarily  unhinging  his  reason.  His 
unexpected  weight  projected  upon  the  carpet  utterly 

43 


'Beat  the  Carpet 


bore  down  the  tottering  Imogene,  whose  rake,  claw- 
ing along  the  line,  buried  its  teeth  out  of  sight  in  the 
scant  hair  of  Mr.  Wigglesworth ;  while  his  wife,  feel- 
ing for  the  first  time  an  opposition  to  her  blows,  and 
conceiving  it  to  be  the  work  cut  out  for  her,  fell 
forward  with  redoubled  vigor  and  was  able  to  smite 
her  husband  six  or  seven  times  in  rapid  succession 
before  that  gentleman's  well-known  voice  and  style  of 
diction  enabled  her  to  open  her  eyes  and  discover 
whither  she  was  drifting. 

"  Don't  talk  to  me  1 "  shrieked  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
as  he  struggled  up  and  drove  his  bean-pole,  point  first, 
through  the  heart  of  the  largest  rose ;  "  stay  up  there 
on  that  banking  doing  up  your  back  hair  and  looking 
like  an  idiot  for  these  neighbors  to  stare  at  —  serves 
you  right  —  and  serves  me  right,  too  I "  •  he  yelled, 
smearing  the  blood  from  his  nose  with  one  hand ; 
"serves  me  right  for  marrying  into  a  family  whose 
ancestors  used  to  be  court  fools  to  the  English  kings 
and  have  kept  up  the  blood  for  forty  generations 
without  a  flaw  I " 

But  the  three-dollar  man  finished  the  carpet. 


44 


Chapter  IV 

How  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
(worth  Gave  a 
Surprise  Party 


"  But  it  was  some  moments  before  Mr.  Wetherbee  and  the 
minister  could  get  the  man  with  the  red  whiskers  and  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth  separated."  —  Page  32. 


CHAPTER  IV.— Hcyw  Mrs.    Wigglesworth 
Gave  a  Surprise  Party 

iA        ND  you'll  promise  not  to  breathe  a  word 
/%          of  it?" 

/      ^k  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  put  her  head  in- 

-^"        -^-      sinuatingly   on    one    side   and   held   a 
ringer  archly  toward  the  ceiling. 

The  minister's  wife  promised. 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  with  an  air, 
"I'm  getting  up  a  surprise  party  for  Ellery.  To- 
morrow is  his  birthday,  you  know,  and  I  just  thought 
it  would  be  the  most  fun  to  invite  in  a  houseful  of 
friends  and  give  him  the  greatest  surprise  he  ever  had 
in  his  life." 

The  minister's  wife  said  she  thought  it  would  be 
cute,  and  undertook  for  herself  and  husband  to  be 
present. 

"Now,  hush!"  warned  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  on 
going  away ;  '*  not  a  word,  for  if  it  should  get  to 
Ellery  it  would  ruin  everything." 

It  is  doubtful  if  any  human  being  ever  went  about 
under  a  heavier  weight  of  importance  than  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth  exhibited  all  through  the  day.  The 
air  of  mystery  that  throned  her  countenance,  the 
warning  looks  cast  upon  Willie,  the  guilty  startings 
when  Mr.  Wigglesworth  uttered  the  most  innocent 
remarks,  were  enough  to  have  given  warning  to  the 

47 


Ho<w  cMrs.   Wigglesworth 


dullest   perception    that    something   special   was   im- 
pending. 

"  What  ails  ye,  anyway  ?  "  grumbled  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  staring  across  the  table  at  his  wife ;  "  what  ye 
trying  to  act  out  with  all  them  fool  faces  ?  Think 
you  're  a  graven  image  operated  by  clockwork,  don't 
ye  ? " 

"  I  was  only  —  only  thinking,"  faltered  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth,  lamely. 

"  Huh  1 "  commented  her  husband  ;  "  can 't  ye  think 
without  working  your  face  ?  People  who  are  used  to 
thinking  do  it  on  the  inside  of  their  heads.  Why 
don't  ye  try  it  that  way  ?  " 

"  I  was  thinking,"  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  with 
great  innocence,  "  that  I  'd  ask  you  to  go  down  street 
after  supper  and  get  me  two  dozen  —  er  —  eggs." 

"  What  for  ? "  grumbled  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  spear- 
ing another  biscuit ;  "  what  ye  want  with  eggs  all  of  a 
sudden  that  ye  can 't  order  'em  of  the  market  boy  in 
the  morning?" 

"Why,  you  see,"  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  plaiting 
the  tablecloth,  "I'm  all  out  —  and  —  and  I  really 
need  a  few  for — for  breakfast,  you  know,"  she  con- 
cluded, with  a  frozen  smile.  She  'd  no  idea  it  was 
such  a  difficult  matter  to  get  a  man  down  street  after 
supper. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  munched  on  in  silence,  while 
his  wife's  heart  sank  lower  and  lower.  After  all,  she 
thought,  with  a  sickening  sensation,  were  her  plans 
to  utterly  miscarry  ? 

48 


Gave  a  Surprise  Party 


"  Do  go,  Ellery,"  she  said  coaxingly. 

Never  in  the  world  would  Mr.  Wigglesworth  have 
done  it  on  her  solicitation,  but,  discovering  that  his 
box  of  cigars  was  burned  out,  he  concluded  that  a 
little  run  down  town  would  do  him  good.  It  was  a 
close  call.  Ten  minutes  later  the  first  guests  arrived. 

"Hush!"  whispered  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  as  she 
ushered  them  into  the  darkened  hall.  "Oh,  such  a 
time  as  I  have  had  to  get  rid  of  Ellery !  Put  your 
things  right  in  the  dining-room,  so  he  won't  notice 
them  when  he  comes  back." 

"  I  trust  Brother  Wigglesworth  has  no  premonition 
of  the  charming  event  which  you  have  —  er  —  con- 
cocted ? "  said  the  minister,  as  he  stepped  through  a 
hat  belonging  to  a  deacon  of  another  denomination. 
"Dear  me!"  he  exclaimed,  "I  fear  I  have  deeply 
injured  somebody's  head  covering.  It  was  quite  an 
accident,  I  assure  you." 

"  Why  don't  ye  look  where  ye  're  stepping  ? "  re- 
turned the  deacon,  a  little  warmly. 

"  You  should  n't  have  deposited  it  upon  the  floor," 
protested  the  minister. 

The  difficulty  in  carrying  on  this  altercation  in  a 
suppressed  voice  imparted  a  purple  cast  to  the  coun- 
tenances of  the  speakers,  which  in  the  dim  light  of 
the  subdued  gas  jets  took  on  an  awful  expression. 

"  Hush ! "  cried  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  looking  in 
from  the  parlor,  "you'll  have  to  come  this  way, 
please.  And  don't  say  another  word,  will  you  ?  for  I 
expect  Ellery  at  any  moment." 

49 


H&w  Mrs.   Wiggles<worth 


Mrs.  Wigglesworth's  spirits  rose  to  the  occasion. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wetherbee  were  there,  also  the  woman 
who  lived  next  door,  and  whose  husband's  long  red 
whiskers  presented  a  phosphorescent  appearance  in 
the  ghostly  gloom.  Then  there  were  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Tacker,  the  Misses  Sloot,  young  Mr.  Tadley,  Deacon 
Fodder,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Raggles  and  a  number  of 
others. 

"  Hush ! "  aspirated  the  minister.  "  I  hear  Brother 
Wigglesworth  approaching  the  gate.  Let  us  turn 
out  the  lights  entirely,  and  when  he  advances  into 
the  middle  of  the  apartment,  suddenly  re-ignite  the 
gas  and  unitedly  jump  around  him  with  merry  shouts, 
wishing  him  many  happy  returns  of  the  occasion." 

In  the  stillness  that  ensued  the  noise  of  a  fumbled 
lock  was  heard,  also  the  swashing  of  the  spring  rain, 
which  in  the  past  half  hour  had  grown  from  a  mild 
drizzle  to  an  April  downpour,  and  through  which  Mr. 
Wigglesworth,  burdened  with  the  eggs  and  some 
other  commissions,  had  found  his  way  soakingly 
home,  without  an  umbrella.  How  numb  his  fingers 
had  grown  I  Would  the  lock  never  yield  ? 

Then  the  door  flung  open  with  a  crash  and  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  slid  three-quarters  across  the  polished 
floor. 

"  Emma  1 "  he  called  in  a  loud  voice. 

Naught  answered  to  his  cry.  In  the  next  room 
the  guests  cowered  in  corners,  the  man  with  the  red 
whiskers  nursing  himself  into  an  incipient  apoplexy 
with  suppression  of  breathing. 

SO 


Gave  a.  Surprise  Party 


"  Emma  1 "  bawled  Mr.  Wigglesworth  again,  a  little 
more  angrily,  "  where  ye  got  to  now  ?  What  ye  got 
the  house  so  dark  for,  anyway  ?  Think  I  'm  a  cathode 
ray,  don't  ye  ?  Fetch  out  a  light  there." 

There  was  no  response  to  this,  and  the  guests, 
bursting  with  repressed  laughter,  could  hear  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  poking  about  the  hall  and  muttering. 

"  Emma ! "  he  yelled,  as  his  head  found  one  of  the 
metal  knobs  of  the  hat  tree,  "where's  my  dry  under- 
shirt? I'm  soaked  to  the  skin,  I  tell  ye,  tramping 
around  after  your  blamed  old  eggs.  Hurry  down 
here,  can't  ye  ? " 

Now  Mr.  Wigglesworth  had  felt  his  way  into  the 
parlor. 

"  Oh,  that 's  the  way,"  he  sneered  aloud  in  a  bitter 
tone,  "  that 's  all  the  thanks  a  man  gets  after  soaking 
through  the  rain  after  a  mess  of  gashflummuxed  old 
addled  eggs.  Where's  them  matches?"  he  added, 
waving  his  arms  around  in  the  dark ;  "  prob'ly  she 's 
hid  them,  also,  after  blowing  out  the  lights.  Emma  1 " 
he  yelled  again,  and  then  listened.  "Oh,  no — no 
need  to  call  her,"  he  snorted,  "  prob'ly  gone  over  to 
see  that  old  hen  next  door  and  borrow  some  lard  — 
either  that  or  else  pranced  up  to  that  chuckle- 
headed  minister's  to  see  about  sending  some  more 
clothing  to  the  missionaries,  and  me  without  a  dry 
shirt  to  my  back  —  wow  I " 

By  this  time  Mr.  Wigglesworth  had  worked  over 
to  the  bay  window,  the  egg  basket  still  on  his  arm 
and  his  hands  circling  about  in  search  of  rescue,  as  a 

51 


a  Surprise  Party 


man  in  the  dark  will,  and  the  yell  that  he  let  off  in 
the  foregoing  paragraph  was  occasioned  by  his  hand 
closing  around  the  red  whiskers  of  the  man  who 
lived  next  door. 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  got  the  gas  lighted  as  soon  as 
her  nervous  haste  would  permit.  But  it  was  some 
time  before  Mr.  Wetherbee  and  the  minister  could 
get  the  man  with  the  red  whiskers  and  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth  separated  so  that  each  might  go  on  in  his 
respective  capacity. 

"  I  'm  an  old  hen,  am  I  ? "  spat  the  woman  next 
door  as  she  seized  the  red-whiskered  man  by  the  arm 
and  dragged  him  toward  the  exit. 

And  really  her  husband  had  rolled  over  so  many 
times  with  the  basket  of  eggs,  and  was  so  covered 
with  them  from  head  to  foot,  resembling  nothing  so 
much  as  a  movable  Italian  sunset,  that  even  young 
Mr.  Tadley  could  see  how  natural  was  the  suggestion. 


Chapter  V 

HCKV  Wigglesworth 
Hung  the  Wall 
Paper 


"  The  paper  letting  go  its  hold  and  transferring  its  affec- 
tions to  the  falling  fortunes  of  the  house  of  Wigglesworth." 
—  Page  61. 


CHAPTER  V.—  How  Wigglesworth  Hung  the 
Wall  Paper 

AT  the  first  step  Mr.  Wigglesworth  made 
into  the  front  hall  his  foot  rested  upon 
a  moist  cake  of  soap,  and  in  another 
instant  he  was  over  by  the  dining-room 
door  with  his  arms  around  the  hat-tree  and  some 
language  trailing  on  behind  that  left  a  coppery  taste 
in  the  atmosphere  as  it  slowly  curled  up  the  front 
stairway. 

"  Who  left  that  sloap  on  the  f oor  ? "  he  yelled,  soon 
as  he  could  unhook  himself  from  the  hat-tree. 

"Why  —  I  —  I  guess  Imogene  must,"  stammered 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  who  had  rushed  in  from  the 
kitchen  with  a  potato  masher  in  her  hand.  "  We  — 
we  are  cleaning  house,  you  know." 

"Cleaning  house!"  repeated  her  husband,  "well, 
s'pose  ye  are?  You  needn't  think  you're  going  to 
use  me  to  flop  up  your  moors  with."  The  sudden- 
ness of  Mr.  Wigglesworth's  entrance  had  temporarily 
unhinged  his  tongue.  "Think  you've  seen  me  adver- 
tised in  the  back  end  of  the  magazine,  don't  ye?" 
he  continued,  "warranted  to  save  labor  or  money 
refunded  1  Reckon  I  'm  to  be  had  of  all  grocers,  I 
s'pose,  or  sent  prepaid  on  receipt  of  price  1 " 

These  retorts  were  so  keen  that  through  their 
exercise  Mr.  Wigglesworth  found  his  good  nature 
coming  back,  and  he  ate  dinner  without  grumbling 

55 


H&w  Wigglesworth 


more  than  a  husband  has  to  do  ordinarily.  When  he 
went  into  the  sitting  room  he  found  the  carpet  up 
and  there  was  a  bundle  of  wall-paper  in  a  chair. 

"  What 's  this  ? "  he  sniffed,  suspiciously. 

"  It 's  wall  paper,"  his  wife  responded  ;  "  I  got  it  at 
a  great  bargain  down  to  Root  &  Gilder's — closing 
out  of  new  spring  goods,  just  received,  at  less  than 
cost." 

"  Huh  1 "  grunted  her  husband,  unrolling  a  package 
and  holding  it  wrong  side  up.  "  Looks  like  a  case  of 
delirious  trimmings." 

"Yes,"  fluttered  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  "it  is  the 
new  art,  the  man  said — after  Aubrey  Beardsley." 

"  Who 's  Aubrey  Beardsley  ? "  coldly  returned  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  with  a  falling  inflection. 

"He — he  is — the  —  the  man  that  has  got  up  so 
many  new  ideas  of  —  of  art,"  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
explained;  "they  went  quite  crazy  over  him,  you 
know,  so  the  man  said." 

"  Well,  if  they  're  any  crazier  than  Beardsley  I  pity 
*em,"  growled  her  husband,  dropping  the  roll  in  dis- 
gust. "Who's  going  to  hoist  this  nightmare  onto 
our  walls  ? "  he  added. 

"I  —  I  want  you  to  step  in  and  speak  to  the  paper- 
hanger  on  your  way  down,"  his  wife  returned. 

"Oh,  yes,  that's  it!"  Mr.  Wigglesworth  snorted, 
"  feller  with  a  blackboard  on  his  shoulder  and  a  hinge 

in  the  middle  and  four  dollars  a  day "  and  then 

an  idea  shot  into  Mr.  Wigglesworth's  active  brain. 
"B'george!"  he  cried,  firing  with  it,  "I'll  hang  this 

56 


Hung  the  Wall  Paper 


paper  myself!"  and  he  began  peeling  off  his  coat. 

"  But,  Ellery,"  his  wife  said  in  mild  expostulation, 
"you  haven't  had  any  experience." 

"  Experience  nothing ! "  retorted  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
'•what's  experience  got  to  do  with  a  handy  man? 
Four  dollars  a  day 's  experience  enough  for  me,  and  I 
must  be  a  chump  if  I  can 't  smear  some  moist  flour 
over  the  rear  end  of  a  few  sheets  of  paper  and  slap 
'em  up  against  a  smooth  wall ! " 

When  Mr.  Wigglesworth  made  up  his  mind  to  a 
thing,  it  was  like  the  French  Revolution,  it  had  to  go. 
In  brief  time  Imogene  was  boiling  some  paste  and 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth  had  tied  one  of  her  aprons  about 
her  husband's  neck,  much  to  his  disgust.  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth  declared  when  all  nature  was  vocal 
with  the  melody  of  spring,  when  birds  were  fluting 
their  first  glad  notes  and  a  thousand  streams  made 
music  in  their  journey  toward  the  sea,  she  didn't  pro- 
pose to  have  her  husband  going  through  the  street 
with  flour  paste  daubed  all  over  his  new  spring  garments. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  opened  one  of  the  rolls  of  paper, 
spread  it  out  on  the  dining-room  table  and  "  taking  a 
sight "  at  the  altitude  of  the  room,  cut  off  a  strip  that 
appeared  to  be  the  proper  length.  Utilizing  a  crumb- 
brush  he  spread  on  a  copious  quantity  of  paste  and 
then  lifted  the  paper  by  one  end.  He  put  his  arms 
up  to  their  full  length  but  the  other  end  of  the  paper 
still  lingered  on  the  table. 

"  Why  don't  ye  take  hold  of  it  ?  "  he  said  testily  to 
his  wife,  who  stood  dubiously  looking  on. 

57 


How  Wigglesworth 


So  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  upraised  the  other  end  and 
her  husband  stood  in  a  chair.  He  reached  for  the 
border  line  of  the  wall,  but  fell  short  of  it. 

"Why  don't  ye  go  fetch  a  table?"  he  roared. 
"  That 's  right ! "  he  shouted  as  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
dropped  her  end  of  the  paper  and  the  pasty  side  trailed 
over  the  back  of  the  chair  and  clung  about  his  knees. 

"  You  told  me  to  get  the  table,"  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
protested,  considerably  abashed. 

"  Oh,  of  course  I "  Mr.  Wigglesworth  retorted ;  "lay 
it  all  onto  me.  'F  I  'd  told  ye  to  jump  through  a 
hoop  I  s'pose  you  'd  done  it !  Well ! "  he  yelled,  as 
his  arms  began  to  draw  out  of  their  sockets,  "what 
ye  standing  there  all  day  on  one  foot  for  ?  Think  my 
arms  are  bamboo  fish  poles  with  german  silver  joints, 
don't  ye  ?  Why  don't  ye  go  get  the  table,  if  you  're 
going  to,  'fore  I  stiffen  out  here  like  a  blamed  old 
mummy  and  have  to  go  into  a  private  collection 
under  Exhibit  A 1 " 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  got  back  as  soon  as  possible, 
but  not  before  her  husband's  arms  had  pulled  out  and 
he  had  dashed  the  paper  on  the  floor  and  was  stamp- 
ing on  it.  Nothing  relieves  a  man  like  stamping,  so 
when  they  had  arranged  the  table  —  a  mahogany 
table  with  a  shiny  top — beside  the  wall,  and  put  a 
little  hassock  on  top  of  it,  Mr.  Wigglesworth  felt 
sufficiently  mollified  to  snip  off  another  length  of  the 
Beardsley  pattern  and  apply  some  more  paste  to  its 
posterior  surface,  maintaining  a  steady  current  of 
growling  at  his  wife,  on  general  principles. 

58 


Hung  the  Wall  Paper 


"  Now  don't  be  a  fool,  this  time,"  he  said,  encour- 
agingly, as  they  picked  up  the  paper  and  he  labori- 
ously climbed  to  the  polished  surface  of  the  table 
with  it.  Then  he  stepped  cautiously  upon  the  has- 
sock and  stood  there  an  instant,  his  knees  wobbling 
painfully. 

"  Can  you  reach  ? "  his  wife  called  from  below. 
She  was  busy  keeping  her  part  of  the  paste  away 
from  the  mahogany  table. 

"  Reach  ? "  echoed  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  in  a  concen- 
trated voice;  "what  ye  s'pose  I'm  up  here  for  any- 
way ?  Think  I  'm  addressing  the  county  convention  ? 
Want  me  to  move  an  amendment  in  favor  of  woman's 
suffrage,  don't  ye?"  Then  the  hassock  turned 
slightly,  as  the  worm  is  said  to  do,  and  in  catching 
his  breath  and  balance  Mr.  Wigglesworth  jerked  the 
paper  out  of  his  wife's  tentative  grasp.  The  paper 
turned  a  smart  corner  and  flapped  up  against  the 
wall,  to  which  it  clung  in  a  clammy  and  tenacious 
embrace. 

"What  ye  do  that  for?"  shouted  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth  as  loud  as  the  uncertain  hassock  would  permit. 

"I  —  I  did  n't  go  to,"  returned  his  frightened  wife, 
and  with  what  alacrity  she  was  mistress  of  she  un- 
peelecl  the  cold  and  deathlike  sheet. 

"Now  you  let  it  alone,  d'ye  hear?"  warned  her 
husband,  and  acting  upon  his  direction  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  retired  to  the  far  side  of  the  room,  and  looked 
on  in  fascination.  This  is  the  tragedy  that  swiftly 
unfolded  itself. 

59 


H&w  Wigglcyworth 


Mr.  Wigglesworth,  feeling  more  and  more  the 
treacherous  character  of  the  hassock,  held  his  knees 
at  that  angle  which  gives  to  even  the  strongest  man 
an  appearance  of  weakness.  His  arms  were  thrust 
out  to  their  full  capacity,  and  though  at  a  distance, 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth  could  feel  the  dreadful  ache  that 
pervaded  them.  First  her  husband  pressed  his  end 
of  the  strip  close  up  to  the  border;  the  lower  end 
caught  on  also  at  the  same  instant,  but  in  quite  an- 
other part  of  the  room,  and  by  the  time  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth  had  reached  painfully  downward  and  fetched  it 
loose,  at  the  same  moment  muttering  something  that 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth  tried  hard  to  hear,  but  couldn't, 
distinctly,  the  upper  end  came  away  and  flapped 
down  over  Mr.  Wigglesworth's  forehead,  leaving  more 
paste  there  than  his  wife  had  thought  could  be  left 
on  one  forehead  in  a  single  afternoon.  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth's  comments  upon  this  transaction,  as  he  fren- 
ziedly  snatched  at  the  paper,  were  not  only  clearly 
audible  to  his  wife,  but  even  penetrated  to  Imogene, 
who  promptly  opened  the  kitchen  door  to  see  if  she 
might  not  be  able  to  hear  still  plainer.  Then  Mr. 
Wigglesworth,  with  an  earnestness  that  nobody  could 
avoid  noticing,  spanked  the  moist  side  of  that  paper 
against  the  wall  and  slapped  it  with  both  hands  till 
the  creations  of  Aubrey  Beardsley's  fancy  ran  all  into 
each  other. 

"Now  fix  the  lower  end,"  chirped  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  from  the  distance. 

This  was  one  of  those  things  that  were  better  left 

60 


Hung  the  Wall  Paper 


unsaid.  Mr.  WigglesNvorth  had  stood  on  that  uncer- 
tain hassock  till  his  knees  appeared  permanently  fixed 
at  half-cock,  his  arms  were  stretched  clean  out  of 
their  legitimate  precincts,  his  head  was  bursting  with 
the  upper  stratum  of  hot  air  and  perspiration  fashioned 
his  garments  so  close  to  him  that  he  appeared  to  have 
been  born  that  way.  When  this  gratuitous  direction 
burst  cooingly  from  his  wife's  lips,  he  fetched  a  mad 
snatch  at  the  end  of  the  paper,  and  on  the  instant 
the  hassock,  with  a  low,  fiendish  chuckle,  turned  over 
on  its  other  side.  Mr.  Wigglesworth  had  only  time 
for  one  yell,  and  then  vaulted  into  the  air,  the  paper 
letting  go  its  hold  and  transferred  its  affections  to  the 
falling  fortunes  of  the  house  of  Wigglesworth,  and  as 
that  gentleman  went  sailing  through  the  atmosphere, 
the  paper  wound  itself  in  sinuous  folds  about  him,  till 
a  stranger  looking  in  at  the  window  would  have  said 
that  Mr.  Wigglesworth  was  an  admirable  picture 
reproduced  from  a  yellow  poster. 

"  That' s  right,"  he  yelled,  soon  as  he  could  get  to 
his  feet  and  kick  the  hassock  through  the  door, 
"stand  over  there  with  your  thumb  in  your  mouth 
and  toeing  in  —  that's  all  you're  good  for.  Wh?d' 
ye  let  go  that  paper  for  ? "  he  continued,  shaking  his 
fist  toward  the  ceiling.  "Why  didn't  ye  steady  the 
table,  same's  I  told  ye?  You  make  me  out  the 
blamedest  old  fool  in  Knox  county,  always  trying  to 
help  you  with  your  economizing,  but  I  want  you  to 
understand  that  the  next  time  you  get  me  to  chor^ 
around  at  house-cleaning  my  name  won't  be  Wiggles- 

61 


Hung  the  Wall  Paper 


worth ! "  and  he  rushed  up  to  the  bath  room  to  clean 
himself. 

"  I  felt  awfully  about  it,"  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
to  the  minister's  wife,  who  called  soon  afterwards  to 
ask  her  to  bake  a  cake  for  the  church  sociable,  "but 
if  you  never  saw  a  man  fall  off  a  mahogany  table  with 
a  calico  cooking  apron  tied  round  his  neck  you  never 
can  realize  how  dreadfully  Ellery  looked  at  that 
moment." 


62 


Chapter  VI 

How  Wigglesworth 
Ran  Through 


"  With  a  mighty  up  gathering  of  strength,  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth  started  forward."  • — Page  77. 


CHAPTER  VI.  —  How   Wigglesworth  Ran 
Through 

WHEN  Mr.  Wigglesworth  found  that  the 
man  with  the  subscription  book  had 
detained  him  at  the  office  till  after  his 
supper  hour,  which  fact,  however,  he 
did  not  ascertain  until  the  man  hard  secured  his  name 
for  the  thirty  parts    of    a    publication   nobody  ever 
heard  of,  illustrated   by  views  of    places  that  never 
had  been  seen,  he  was  mad,  and  he  burst  into  the 
house  with  more  than  his  usual  vigor. 

"  Come,  now ! "  he  cried  in  a  threatening  tone  as 
he  jumped  through  the  front  hall,  "s'pose  ye  mean 
to  keep  me  waiting  all  night,  don't  ye  ?  Hired  girl 
wants  another  hour  to  boil  them  four-minute  eggs,  I 
s'pose  ?  Tired  to  death,  too,  that 's  what  I  am,  and 
you  women  folks  loafing  around  here  at  home  with 
nothing  to  do  ! " 

But  the  supper  table  was  immaculately  spread  and 
everything  waited  in  readiness.  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
called  attention  to  this  fact,  with  a  little  purring  air 
of  triumph.  But  that  wasn't  the  way  to  smooth 
Mr.  Wigglesworth. 

"  Oh,  yes ! "  he  grumbled,  jerking  his  napkin  out  of 
the  ring,  "  you  think  it 's  mighty  funny  to  contradict 
your  own  husband,  and  him  tired  and  sick  working 
for  you.  Awful  knowing,  you  are.  Been  reading 
the  Encyclopedia  Britannica,  ain't  ye  ?  Which  volume 

65 


Haw  Wiggleseworth 


ye  working  through  now  ?  Must  be  prowling  round  in 
the  index  by  this  time.  Take  your  arms  off  the 
table  ! "  This  concluding  injunction  was  delivered  to 
Master  Willie  Wigglesworth,  which  young  man  it 
brought  bolt  upright  in  his  chair,  with  a  suddenness 
that  made  his  spinal  column  give  forth  a  sharp 
metallic  click. 

"What's  all  that  rubbish  across  the  street  ?"  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  growled  out,  after  the  meal  had  pro- 
ceeded for  some  moments  in  silence,  and  with  that 
gentleman's  gaze  fastened  steadily  upon  his  plate. 

"It — it's  a  —  a  bonfire,"  piped  Willie,  after  swal- 
lowing a  number  of  times  to  make  way  for  his  thin, 
scared  voice. 

"Whatl"  exclaimed  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  with  an 
awful  glare  ;  "  there  ain't  no  fire  about  it  1  Don't  let 
me  catch  you  telling  any  lies  to  your  own  father, 
young  man ! " 

"  He  means,"  explained  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  "  that 
it 's  going  to  be  a  bonfire.  After  dark,  you  know. 
That 's  what  Willie  meant  to  say." 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  understand  it,"  said  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  smartly ;  "  you  're  the  woman  that  goes  round 
explaining  things  that  never  happened.  Send  you  a 
lock  of  red  hair  by  mail  and  you  '11  tell  anybody  how 
to  get  over  things  that  never  ailed  'em.  That 's  what 
you  '11  do.  Pass  the  butter  1 " 

Thus  we  see  how  wide-reaching  is  influence.  Even 
the  persistence  of  a  book  canvasser  may  operate  to 
direct  the  tea  table  talk  of  celebrated  individuals. 

66 


Ran  Through 

Book  canvassers  ought  to  think  of  this  before  it  is 
too  late. 

But  there  was  something  in  the  hurry  and  excite- 
ment of  the  scene  in  the  lot  across  the  way  that 
fired  Mr.  Wigglesworth's  interest,  as  he  stood  after 
supper  morosely  gazing  through  the  sitting-room 
window.  Boys  of  all  sizes  and  conditions  were  indus- 
triously rushing  to  and  fro,  staggering  under  piles  of 
spruce  boughs  brought  from  neighboring  flower 
gardens,  and  depositing  them  upon  the  hugejnound 
reared  in  the  center  of  the  inclosure. 

"  B'  george ! "  he  said,  rubbing  one  foot  on  top  of 
the  other,  "that  reminds  me  of  the  Dodley  twins. 
What  bonfires  we  did  use  to  have  1  Why,  me  and 
Alexander  Dodley  —  Aleck,  we  used  to  call  him  — 
What  ye  doing,  you  fool,  you  ? "  he  shouted. 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  sprang  half  out  of  her  chair. 

"Wha  —  did  you  say?"  she  stammered,  pulling 
the  needle  out  of  her  thumb. 

"Not  you,  "her  husband  answered,  testily,  "the 
other  one  —  that  lunk-headed  boy,  out  there  —  hi! 
youl"  he  called,  rapping  on  the  window,  "don't  start 
it  that  way ! " 

The  boy  had  put  a  bit  of  paper  in  at  the  apex  of 
the  brush-heap,  and  was  vainly  striving  to  set  it  alight. 

"  Let  me  show  'em, "  muttered  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
breaking  for  the  door. 

"  Don't,  Ellery,  I  beg  of  you, "  his  wife  pleaded ; 
"  you  're  tired  to  death,  and  the  ground's  wet,  and 
your  slippers  —  " 

67 


How  Wiggles'worth 


But  with  a  snarl,  Mr.  Wigglesworth  was  out  fn  the 
yard  and  dashing  across  the  street. 

"  Gimme  that  match, "  he  bawled  in  a  voice  of 
authority  as  he  pranced  into  the  lot.  "You  boys 
don't  know  enough  to  eat  piel  Wish't  I  had  the 
Dodley  twins  here,  we'd  show  ye  how  to  run  a  bon- 
fire that  would  make  your  eyes  bug  out  I " 

The  boys  gave  back  in  awe  of  Mr.  Wigglesworth's 
personality,  and  that  gentleman,  going  down  on  his 
knees,  tucked  a  crumpled  newspaper  under  a  corner 
of  the  brush  and  struck  a  match  to  it.  There  was  a 
little  flicker  of  light,  a  fortune  of  smoke,  and  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  filled  his  lungs  quite  full  of  it. 

"What  you  boys  all  standing  around  here  for?" 
he  yelled,  coughing  and  stamping  and  batting  his 
reddened  eyes ;  "  trying  to  keep  the  wind  off,  ain't 
ye?"  Saying  which  he  aimed  a  blow  at  the  nearest 
boy,  but  missed  him,  and  then  he  walked  aimlessly 
around  in  a  little  circle,  spluttering  and  heaving,  with 
the  smoke  persistently  wrapping  him  about. 

"You  started  her  on  the  wrong  side!*'  shrieked 
the  boy  with  two  front  teeth  missing.  This  was 
true,  but  Mr.  Wigglesworth  never  would  have  ac- 
knowledged it  had  not  the  little  fire  finally  smouldered 
itself  to  death. 

"  Now  you  boys  stand  out  of  the  way, "  he  growled 
as  he  got  down  on  his  damp  knees  again  ;  "I'd  had  it 
going  long  ago  if 't  hadn't  been  for  you. " 

Assisted  by  a  little  breeze  the  kindled  paper  flared 
up,  caught  the  resinous  boughs  and  leaped  into  life. 

68 


Ran  Through 

"  Hooray  ! "  screamed  the  boys,  dancing  madly  up 
and  down,  their  shadows  making  grotesque  motions 
on  the  adjacent  house  walls. 

"That's  the  stuff  1"  Mr.  Wigglesworth  said,  stand- 
ing back  and  looking  like  Nero  when  he  had  ordered 
Rome  kindled,  only  more  important.  "Aleck  Dodley 
always  said  I  knew  more  about  a  bonfire  than  the 
whole  town,  and  so  did  his  brother.  They  were  both 
twins  and  they  knew  what  they  were  talking  about,  I 
tell  ye!" 

The  blaze,  setting  the  neighborhood  alight,  attracted 
great  groups  of  spectators.  Adjacent  windows  went 
up  and  filled  with  eager  heads.  Neighbors  came  for- 
ward with  the  refuse  of  house  cleaning,  and  offered  up 
old  boots,  and  bottles,  battered  furniture  and  antique 
hoopskirts  as  tribute  to  the  flames.  Many  years  have 
gone  by  since  hoopskirts  made  woman's  life  a  burden, 
yet  the  attics  of  our  homes  continue  to  give  forth 
from  some  mysterious  corner  their  annual  contribu- 
tions of  this  antiquated  finery. 

During  the  momentary  lull  in  the  violence  of  the 
flames,  while  the  smoke  billowed  forth  in  illuminated 
clouds,  the  boys  began  "running  through."  This 
game  consisted  of  a  short,  quick  run,  ending  in  a  fly- 
ing leap  straight  over  the  burning  pile.  The  on- 
lookers saw  the  boy  vault  into  the  air  and  disappear 
amid  the  smoke,  whence  he  almost  instantly  reap- 
peared upon  the  opposite  side,  sans  eyebrows,  cough- 
ing and  wiping  his  eyes  and  smelling  horribly.  There 
was  a  dash  and  excitement  to  the  sport,  particularly 

69 


H&w  Wiggles<worth 


when  the  smoke  grew  so  dense  and  the  interior  flames 
so  fierce  that  only  the  more  adventuresome  boys  dared 
essay  it.  Then,  as  the  flames  spurted  more  fiercely 
aloft,  even  they  were  awed. 

"  Stump  anybody  to  foller  me ! "  screamed  the  boy 
with  two  front  teeth  missing,  an  awful  look  upon  his 
black,  smooched  face.  But  the  flames,  fastening  upon 
an  old  pair  of  pointed  shoes,  flung  their  naked  arms 
aloft  and  roared  in  savage  glee,  appalling  the  stoutest- 
hearted.  Mr.  Wigglesworth  shook  his  head. 

"  I  wish  the  Dodley  twins  were  here,"  he  muttered, 
glowering  at  the  boy  with  two  front  teeth  missing. 
"  Me  and  them  used  to  jump  through  fires  twice  as 
big  as  this." 

"  You  try  it,  pa  I "  screeched  Willie  Wigglesworth. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  shook  his  head  again,  but  at  this 
the  crowd  of  spectators  caught  up  the  cry : 

"  Wigglesworth  !  Wigglesworth  1 "  they  shouted  in 
chorus;  "hoo-roar  for  Wigglesworth." 

It  was  the  noise  of  battle  to  the  war  horse  when  he 
snuffeth  from  afar  off  and  remarks  to  himself, 
"  Aha  1 "  Mr.  Wigglesworth's  heart  mounted,  and 
for  a  second  the  blood  swam  before  his  eyes.  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth  could  see  from  the  window  that  some- 
thing was  impending. 

"  Don't  you  do  it  1 "  she  screamed,  throwing  open 
the  window  and  leaning  far  out.  "  Oh,  Ellery,  don't 
—  don't,  I  beg  of  you  1  "she  wailed,  as  that  gentleman 
spat  on  his  hands ;  "  don't  run  through  that  fire  with 
your  new  trousers  on,  and  your  others  not  yet 
mended,  and  me  —  " 

70 


Ran  Through 

It  only  required  these  expostulatory  words  of  his 
wife. 

"  Stand  back  there  ! "  he  shouted,  "  and  I  '11  show 
ye  how  to  skate !  " 

With  a  mighty  up-gathering  of  strength,  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth  started  forward.  He  ran  heavily,  for  he 
was  somewhat  older  than  when  he  first  set  out  in  life, 
and  the  soggy  ground  yielded  considerably  to  his 
slippers.  Halfway  up  to  the  fire  both  slippers  pulled 
off,  but  uplifted  on  the  shouts  of  the  populace,  the 
valiant  Wigglesworth  pressed  steadily  forward.  He 
realized,  when  too  late,  that  he  had  taken  too  long  a 
start,  and  his  wind  was  leaving  him,  but  with  a 
superhuman  effort  he  made  a  final  dash,  and  just 
then  one  of  the  hoopskirts  which  had  either  writhed 
out  of  the  fire  or  been  cunningly  laid  in  the  path  by 
the  boy  with  two  front  teeth  missing,  threw  itself 
about  Mr.  Wigglesworth's  flying  feet,  and,  uttering 
a  merry  cry,  climbed  rapidly  up  both  his  legs  and 
remained  there. 

Under  the  broad  glare  of  the  footlights  the  spec- 
tators instantly  discerned  this  transformation  scene, 
and  thought  that  Mr.  Wigglesworth  designed  it  as  a 
special  costumed  act  of  ground  and  lofty  tumbling, 
and  their  applause  tore  a  ragged  hole  in  the  heavens. 
It  is  said  by  persons  who  have  tried  it,  and  failed, 
that  when  a  man  is  drowning  for  the  first  time, 
thoughts  that  he  never  before  has  had  brought  to  his 
attention  flash  upon  his  mind  with  incredible  swift- 
ness, and  it  was  the  same  way  with  Mr.  Wiggles- 


Ran  Through. 

worth.  He  felt  the  hoopskirt's  shining  coils  about  his 
tired  legs,  he  felt  its  hot  breath  hissing  in  his  ears, 
he  saw  the  mocking  flames  ahead  of  him,  and  then 
with  a  mighty  whoop  he  was  projected  into  the  air 
and  went  shrieking  and  plowing  across  the  blazing 
crater  of  Vesuvius. 

"Oh,  is  he  dead — is  he  dead!"  sobbed  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth,  as  they  led  her  husband  across  the 
street,  the  hoopskirt  still  clinging  to  him  in  spots  and 
one  side  of  his  face  entirely  dewhiskered :  "  oh, 
Ellery,  speak  and  tell  me  —  " 

"  You  get  out  of  that  window  I "  her  husband 
screamed,  waving  his  scorched  arms  in  the  air  and 
his  countenance  distorted  with  streaks  of  soot: 
"  what  ye  balancing  up  and  down  there  for,  with  me 
perishing  here  in  the  street  ?  I  told  ye  you'd  make  a 
fool  of  yourself  'fore  the  day  ended,  and  you  Ve 
done  it,  getting  me  to  act  the  monkey  with  your  old 
brush  fires  1  Open  that  door  d'ye  hear?  'fore  I 
come  up  there  and  twitch  ye  through  that  window 
and  knock  some  sense  into  that  holler  place  other 
people  keep  their  brains  in  1 " 

And  the  neighbors,  who  stood  outside  listening, 
said  that  it  was  more  than  an  hour,  before  the  sound 
of  rumbling  thunder  died  away  inside  the  house. 


Chapter  VII 

HCKV  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
<worth  Drove  Some 
Neat  Bargains 


"The  first  zip  of  water  caught  the  fat  man  in  the  neck. 
Page  80. 


CHAPTER    VII.— How    Mrs.     Wtgglesworth 
Drove  Some  Neat  Bargains. 

'  f  >|  O  right  away,"  warned  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
m  worth  in  a  falsetto  voice.  "  I  don't 

^  '...  want  them,  and  I  won't  have  you  track- 

^ — ^  ing  mud  all  over  my  clean  steps ! " 
And  she  slammed  the  door. 

"There!"  she  said,  triumphantly,  coming  back  to 
the  sitting-room,  "  I've  got  rid  of  him,  I  hope." 

"Who's  that?"  Mr.  Wigglesworth  inquired  over 
the  top  of  his  paper. 

"One  of  those  horrid  old  peddlers,"  his  wife  re- 
turned, "selling  things  out  of  a  basket,  and  then 
when  your  back  is  turned  snatching  an  overcoat  off 
the  rack  and  running  away.  But  I  sent  him  flying, 
you  better  believe  1"  she  concluded,  with  an  air  of 
satisfaction. 

"  Humph ! "  growled  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  rattling  his 
paper,  "  I  s'pose  ye  think  that's  smart  ? " 

"  Ellery  Wigglesworth,"  his  wife  retorted,  "  do  you 
want  a  tall  man  with  whiskers  to  come  right  in  here 
and  sell  me  eight  yards  of  Irish  lace,  and  while  I  am 
gone  upstairs  for  the  money  have  him  steal  a  pair  of 
real  Wedgewood  vases  off " 

"What's  the  use  of  acting  paralyzed?"  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth broke  in.  "  You  women  folks  are  all  alike. 
Don't  you  s'pose  these  men  who  go  around  peddling 
have  to  work  hard  for  a  living  ?  I  never  saw  such 

75 


Hoew  Mrs.   Wigglesworth 


heartlessness,"  he  continued,  his  voice  mounting  until 
it  took  on  quite  a  declamatory  flavor,  that  gave  him  a 
great  sense  of  satisfaction.  "These  men  are  poor, 
maybe  have  large  families  to  support,  health  gone, 
likely,  and  when  they  come  to  your  doors,  begging  a 
little  trade  to  save  them  from  the  poorhouse,  you 
womenfolks  set  the  dogs  on  'em  1  I  say  its  scan- 
dalous ! " 

By  this  time  Mr.  Wigglesworth  had  worked  himself 
into  a  fine  passion  of  eloquence,  and  he  wished  the 
kitchen  door  was  open,  so  that  Imogene  might  get  the 
full  effect  of  it. 

"Why  —  I'm  sure—  "Mrs.  Wigglesworth  began. 

"Oh,  yes,  you're  sure,"  bullied  her  husband, 
"  you  're  the  surest  one  on  the  street,  you  are.  Come 
in  bottles,  you  do,  one  dollar  each,  or  six  for  five,  and 
warranted,  or  money  refunded.  By  cutting  a  coupon 
out  of  your  wrapper  anybody  can  guess  on  the  weight 
of  the  Washington  Monument.  That's  what  you 
are  1 "  Mr.  Wigglesworth  thought  he  rarely  had 
known  himself  to  be  in  such  a  keen  flow  of  argument 
and  he  hated  to  let  up  with  it,  but  it  was  office  time, 
and  his  wife  had  sunk  upon  the  lounge,  silenced 
and  abashed  by  the  flashing  of  his  trenchant  humor. 

Two  days  later,  it  will  be  remembered,  the  ther- 
mometer suddenly  rushed  upstairs,  and  with  a  loud 
snort  blew  a  vent-hole  through  its  upper  story.  At 
the  noon  hour  Mr.  Wigglesworth  plunged  into  the 
front  hall,  mopping  his  red  face  with  a  handkerchief. 

"  What  ails  ye  ? "  he  yelled,  rushing  into  the  parlor 
76 


Drove  Some  Neat  Bargains 


and  throwing  up  a  window;  "trying  to  make  a 
vacuum,  ain't  ye,  to  take  the  place  of  that  head  of 
yours  ? " 

"  I  beg  of  you,  Ellery,"  pleaded  his  wife,  "  not  to  let 
all  the  dust  in  on  this  clean  carpet." 

"  Carpet  nothing ! "  puffed  Mr.  Wiggleswprth, 
shoving  up  the  other  window ;  "  s'pose  I  want  to  be 
fried  to  death  in  my  own  house?  Hottest  day  in 
eight  years,  I  tell  ye,  and  me  sasshaying  round  here 
in  my  winter  flannels,  just  to  oblige  you!"  Saying 
this,  he  shot  up  the  front  stairs. 

"  Where's  my  summer  clothes  ?  "  he  shouted,  as  he 
hurried  out  of  the  room. 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  said  to  the  minister's  wife  after- 
ward that  at  those  words  she  felt  herself  to  be  glued 
to  the  lounge.  There  was  a  great  noise  overhead  of 
trampling  feet,  doors  slammed,  chairs  appeared  to  tip 
over  with  loud  reports,  and  presently  a  dark  purple 
streak  of  remarks  peculiar  to  Mr.  Wigglesworth  began 
to  find  its  way  down  the  stairs  and  float  out  at  the 
open  window.  People  on  their  way  to  dinner  stopped 
to  listen,  and  a  fat  man  in  his  shirt  sleeves  started  up 
the  steps  as  though  to  offer  assistance. 

"Ain't  ye  coming  up  here  today?"  bellowed  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  to  his  wife ;  "  think  I  Ve  got  nothing 
to  do  but  paw  around  in  trunks  with  their  lids  off  ? 
Where's  that  gray  suit  ?  " 

Weak  and  tottery  as  she  was,  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
had  to  mount  the  stairs,  tightly  clutching  the  bannis- 
ter rail. 

77 


How  Mrs.    Wigglesworth 


"Where's  that  white  vest  of  mine?"  her  husband 
called,  as  soon  as  she  rose  to  the  surface ; "  what 's  got 
into  ye,  hiding  my  things  this  way  ?  Don't  tell  me  I 
didn't  hang  up  a  gray  suit  in  this  closet  last  Fall, 
'cause  I  know  better.  Where  Ve  ye  stuffed  that  white 
vest  ? " 

The  rooms  and  closets  of  the  second  floor  were 
burst  open  like  a  paper  bag  of  flour  dropped  from  the 
roof  of  a  shot  tower.  Only  those  familiar  with  the 
grand  energy  of  Mr.  Wiggles  worth's  character  can 
understand  how  in  so  short  a  time  that  gentleman 
could  upset  so  many  trunks  and  boxes  and  pull  the 
knobs  off  thirteen  bureau  drawers. 

"  What 's  the  matter  with  ye  ? "  he  cried,  glaring  at 
his  wife,  who  gazed  on  the  ruins  with  a  look  of  dis- 
may. "  Can 't  ye  answer  a  civil  question  ?  Got  any 
fixed  reason  for  not  telling  what's  become  of  them 
flannel  pants  ? " 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  gave  a  mighty  swallow. 

"I  —  sold  them,"  she  said  in  a  faint  voice. 

"  You  what  ? "  shouted  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  his  face 
turning  rigid. 

"To  a  —  peddler  man,  you  know,"  his  wife  ex- 
plained in  a  weak  voice ;  "  he  came  along,  you  know, 
after  we  had — had  —  talked  it  over  —  don't  you 
remember  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  remember,"  Mr.  Wigglesworth  made 
reply,  in  a  voice  of  unnatural  calmness.  "  I  recall  it 
perfectly.  Wha  'd  ye  get  for  them  flannel  pants  ? " 

"A  beautiful  little  statuette,"  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
answered;  "of  —  of  Psyche,  I  think." 

78 


Drove  Some  Neat  Bargains 


"Ah,  indeed!"  her  husband  said,  in  an  excess  of 
affected  pleasure.  "  And  that  elegant  summer  vest  — 
for  that  you  received  —  " 

"The  most  exquisite  matchsafe,"  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  replied  with  enthusiasm.  "The  man  said  him- 
self it  was  worth  twice  as  much  as  the  vest." 

"Oh,  of  course,"  Mr.  Wigglesworth  assented,  "he 
knew.  Anybody  that 's  a  judge  of  matchsafes  knows 
they  're  out  of  sight  'longside  any  old  vests  belonging 
to  Wigglesworth.  And  what  about  the  gray  suit? 
Let 's  hear  about  the  great  commercial  transaction  of 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth  in  gray  suits.  Tremendous  bar- 
gains in  gray  suits  at  Mrs.  Wiggles  worth's.  Gray 
suits  marked  down  to  make  room  for  new  spring 
goods.  Call  on  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  before  going  else- 
where." 

"Why  — " Mrs.  Wigglesworth  began  twin- 
ing her  fingers,  "it  —  it  was  an  old  suit,  you  know 
—  you'd  worn  it  two  summers,  Ellery." 

"Yes  —  I  know,"  her  husband  allowed,  nodding 
his  head  confidentially  at  the  bureau,  as  his  wife 
hesitated. 

"And  so  —  you  see,"  she  went  on,  "it  being  old, 
and  so  worn,  and  the  man  saying  the  style  had 
changed,  you  know  —  and  all  that  —  I  —  I  threw 
it  in." 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  nodded  again  at  the  bureau. 
He  nodded  several  times. 

"She  threw  it  in,"  he  repeated  to  the  bureau. 
"  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  my  wife,  threw  it  in." 

79 


Drove  Some  Neat  bargains 


Then  he  turned  and  walked  out  of  the  room. 
There  was  a  fixed  look  of  calmness  on  his  counte- 
nance such  as  people  wear  just  before  they  go  crazy. 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  walked  down  the  stairs.  For 
fifteen  minutes  the  fat  man  in  shirt  sleeves  had  stood 
at  the  front  door,  violently  ringing  the  bell.  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  flung  the  door  open. 

"  Beg  pardon,"  the  fat  man  said  in  a  husky  voice, 
"but  hearing  a  loud  noise  inside,  we  thought  there 
might  be  trouble,  so  I  made  bold  to " 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  pushed  past  the  fat  man,  caught 
up  the  lawn  hose  and  turned  on  a  full  head.  The 
first  zip  of  water  caught  the  fat  man  in  the  neck,  just 
as  he  was  boosting  himself  sidewise  down  the  top 
step,  and  as  he  fetched  a  whoop  and  slid  to  the  fence 
on  his  back,  pawing  the  air  madly,  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
was  able  to  soak  his  clothes  so  full  of  water  that  it 
took  four  of  the  stoutest  bystanders  to  hoist  the  fat 
man  to  his  feet. 


Bo 


Chapter  VIII 

How  Wigglesworth 
Took  Off  the 
Outside  Window 


"She   dashed  after  the  barrel  and  falling  upon  it  with  a 
hysterical  cry  rolled  completely  over  it."  —  Page  88. 


CHAPTER  Vlll.  —  How    Wigglesworth    Took 
off  the  Outside  Window 

"  ~T| >  LLERY, "  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  mildly, 

SL^j  "  do  you  realize  that  this  is  the  last  of 
»  .  June  and  we  haven't  got  our  storm 
-* — **  windows  off  yet?" 

"Well,  why  ain't  we?"  retorted  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  sawing  at  his  steak. 

"  I  Ve  spoken  to  you  ever  so  many  times  about  it, 
you  know, "  pursued  his  wife,  "  and  you  always  put 
me  off." 

"  Huh !  returned  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  "  you  talk  as 
if  you  were  a  suit  of  winter  flannels. " 

"  I  wish  they  could  be  taken  down, "  sighed  his 
wife;  "all  the  neighbors  are  laughing  at  us.  Only 
yesterday  Mrs.  Todley  asked  me  if  we  were  going  to 
use  them  this  summer  instead  of  screens.  " 

"  Ya-a-a-h-h  !  "  sneered  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  flinging 
down  the  napkin  without  folding  it,  as  a  man  will 
when  mad,  "what  ye  s'pose  I  care  about  your 
meddling  old  neighbors?  Todley  better  pay  that  $25 
he  owes  me  for  last  year's  coal  bill  before  his  wife 
goes  to  putting  on  so  many  airs.  I  hate  such 
people. " 

As  his  voice  rose  into  a  high  tone  of  indignation 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  accompanied  it  out  of  the  room. 

"I  don't  see  any  outside  windows, "  he  called  back 

83 


How  Wiggles<worth 


from    the    sitting   room.     "What    ails    ye,    anyway? 
What  ye  fussing  so  about  ?  " 

"Why,  that's  just  it,  "  fluttered  his  wife,  appearing 
in  the  door  ;  "  the  inside  ones  are  so  dirty  you  can't 
see  through  them.  That's  why  I  want  the  outside 
ones  down,  so  I  can  get  cleaned  up  before  Aunt 
Emmeline  comes. " 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  received  the  reference  to  Aunt 
Emmeline  with  a  sour  countenance. 

"  Where's  the  screw  driver  ? "  he  abruptly  de- 
manded. 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  laid  a  finger  reflectively  to  her 
lip  and  put  her  head  a  trifle  on  one  side. 

"  Let  me  see, "  she  said,  slowly,  "  the  last  time  I 
saw  it  you  were  driving  that  nail  in  the  —  no,  that 
wasn't  it,  of  course, "  she  hastily  added,  "  for  you  had 
the  hammer  that  time  and  knocked  your  thumbnail 
off — don't  you  remember,  Ellery  —  when  the  minister 
and  his  wife  came  in  at  the  very  moment  you  were 
screaming  those  dreadful  words  just  like  the  circus 
men  use,  Ellery — you  remember." 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  gave  an  impatient  roll  to  his  head. 

"What  ye  talking  about  now?"  he  cried  ;  "what 
ye  running  on  like  that  for?  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
the  Human  Phonograph.  Drop  a  nickel  and  hear  a 
piece  spoke.  Curfew  Must  Not  Ring  Tonight  by 
special  request." 

"  Oh,  I  know  where  it  is ! "  cried  that  lady,  clapping 
her  hands  ;  "  Imogene  had  it  last  night  shelling  those 
lobsters.  That 's  where  it  is." 

84 


Took  off  the  Outside  Window 

It  was  a  screw  driver  such  as  innocent  neighbors 
are  apt  to  borrow  and  bring  back  the  next  day  with 
several  of  their  knuckles  missing.  The  rusty  blade 
was  blunted  at  the  point  and  where  it  was  let  into 
the  handle  there  was  a  brass  band  gone,  so  that  the 
thing  would  unjoint  when  you  least  expected  it  and 
write  its  autograph  on  the  back  of  your  hand.  Hired 
girls  had  been  known  to  attack  a  tomato  can  with 
that  screw  driver  and  shortly  afterwards  come  scream- 
ing into  the  front  room  with  both  wrists  done  up  and 
a  demand  for  their  back  wages. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  regarded  it  with  intense  disgust. 

"Ain't  that  a  daisy  of  a  screw  driver!"  he  ejacu 
lated,  as  he  flung  it  out  of  doors. 

"  Gimme  a  barrel  here,  can't  ye  ?  "  he  said,  calling 
to  his  wife.  "  Can't  ye  help  out  a  little  instead  of 
standing  up  on  that  verandah  trying  to  look  wise? 
How  ye  s'pose  I  'm  going  to  unscrew  these  windows 
from  the  ground  ?  Think  I  'm  an  extension  fire 
ladder,  don't  ye  ?  Wigglesworth,  the  world-renowned 
giraffe  man.  That 's  what  you  probably  think." 

Accelerated  by  this  flowing  tide  of  sarcasm  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth  hastened  to  fetch  from  the  shed  the 
last  emptied  flour  barrel. 

"  It 's  awfully  heavy,  Ellery,"  she  panted,  for  the 
sun  shone  blithely  and  there  was  very  little  air  astir. 

"  Poh ! "  returned  her  husband,  "  don't  find  so 
much  fault  at  having  to  do  a  little  work.  Can't  any- 
body ask  you  to  do  the  least  bit  of  a  job  but 
you  grumble  and  try  to  get  out  of  it.  Hold  on 

85 


Ho<w  Wiggles'worth 


there,  can't  ye  ? "  he  yelled,  as  he  essayed  to  climb 
onto  the  barrel  and  that  important  member  of  society 
began  to  buck  ominously. 

"What  shall  I  do?"  asked  Mrs.  Wigglesworth, 
anxiously. 

"  Do  ? "  shouted  her  husband,  who  was  crouched  at 
the  top  of  the  barrel  in  a  very  unpoetic  attitude,  "  do 
anything  but  stand  there  in  the  sun  with  your  mouth 
open  letting  your  teeth  warp.  What  ye  s'pose  I 
want  ye  to  do,  jump  through  a  hoop  ?  Catch  hold  of 
the  barrel  and  steady  it,  that 's  what  you  do,  'fore  I 
fall  over  and  mash  my  brains  on  the  sidewalk." 

The  sun,  after  resting  a  few  minutes  behind  a  re- 
freshing cloud,  now  came  forward  and  attached  Mr. 
Wigglesworth's  garments  permanently  to  that  gentle- 
man. Noting  that  it  had  caught  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
on  the  most  favorable  side  of  the  house  it  laughed 
softly  and  bored  him  through  with  some  of  its  most 
insinuating  rays.  Large,  circular  globules  of  perspira- 
tion appeared  upon  Mr.  Wigglesworth's  forehead, 
glittered  there  for  an  instant  with  the  iridescence  of 
the  sun,  and  then  fell  to  the  ground  with  a  low,  sizzling 
sound. 

Hereupon  the  woman  next  door  put  up  her  window 
and  leaned  far  out  of  it,  like  Barbara  Frietchie. 

"  What  is  Mr.  Wigglesworth  doing  ? "  she  called  in 
her  sweetest  tone. 

It  was  at  the  very  moment  that  the  screw  driver, 
again  slipping  out  of  the  rusty  screw,  had  carried  away 
the  knuckle  of  Mr.  Wigglesworth's  thumb. 

86 


Took  off  the  Outside  Window 

"  Tell  her  none  of  her  business ! "  he  answered, 
thickly,  with  his  thumb  in  his  mouth. 

"He's  taking  down  the  outside  windows,"  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth  cried  back,  raising  her  voice. 

"  I  thought  it  was  about  time,"  commented  the 
woman  next  door.  "You  seem  to  be  having  hard 
work.  Shan't  I  come  over  and  help  you  ? " 

"  If  she  does  I'll  knock  a  hatchet  into  her,"  hoarsely 
muttered  Mr.  Wigglesworth  with  a  malevolence  that 
made  his  wife's  flesh  creep. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  toiled  on,  his  blood  mounting  to 
a  point  that  hospital  doctors  consider  dangerous. 
"  Ah  !  ha  !  "  said  the  sun  peering  down  on  him,  and 
stirring  up  its  fires  anew.  "  Oh  ho ! "  it  said,  shaking 
its  sides,  "  a  merry  fellow  this,  who  leaves  his  outside 
windows  on  till  after  I  have  returned  from  my  winter 
visit  in  Florida !  Truly  a  mad  wag  he ! "  and  it  smote 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  in  the  back  with  some  of  the  rays 
that  Zuni  Indians  are  said  to  cook  meat  with. 

Mr.  Wiggles  worth's  rage  mounted  with  his  blood. 

"  Gosh-flummux  the  blamed  old  rusty  screws  1 "  he 
would  scream,  pausing  a  moment  to  nurse  his  bleed- 
ing hands,  while  the  shudders  of  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
shook  the  very  barrel  on  which  he  stood,  with  knees 
bent  at  a  painful  angle,  and  from  over  the  fence  came 
wafting  the  still,  small  voice  of  the  woman  next  door, 
fraught  with  advice,  and  at  which  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
would  give  utterance  to  other  things  that  he  had  not 
previously  intended  for  publication. 

But   now  the  window  hung   by  its  last   tottering 

87 


Haw  Wigglesea>orth 


screw  and  Mr.  Wigglesworth  yanked  at  it  viciously. 

"What  ails  the  gash-flummuxed  old  thing?"  he 
shrieked  as  it  still  clung  fondly  to  its  winter  home. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  confessed  afterwards  to  the 
minister  that  he  had  forgotten  the  barrel,  else  he 
wouldn't  have  stamped  upon  it  so  savagely.  Probably 
one  hundred  thousand  men  at  different  times  in  the 
world's  history  have  stood  up  on  barrels  and  had  the 
head  sink  out  from  under  them,  but  doubtless,  none 
ever  did  it  with  more  suddenness  than  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  or  while  balancing  a  fifty-pound  outside  window 
in  the  air. 

Down  the  driveway  the  barrel  rolled,  and  at  every 
jolt  there  were  nails  that  stuck  still  deeper  into  Mr. 
Wigglesworth. 

"  Take  it  off  I  Let  me  up ! "  he  roared,  lashing  out 
wildly  with  his  legs  and  arms,  whereat  the  barrel 
rolled  the  faster  and  inserted  its  nails  into  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth with  deeper  emphasis. 

"Stop  the  barrel  1 "  screamed  the  woman  next 
door. 

Then  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  aroused  from  her'state  of 
paralysis.  Uttering  a  shrill  feminine  scream,  with 
out-stretched  arms,  she  dashed  after  the  barrel,  and 
falling  upon  it  with  an  hysterical  cry  rolled  completely 
over  it,  while  the  barrel,  giving  vent  to  a  loud  note  of 
triumph,  passed  relentlessly  on  and  ground  her  pros- 
trate figure  into  the  soft  mud  of  the  driveway. 

First  the  neighbors  got  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  on  her 
feet  and  found  both  her  sidecombs. 

88 


Took  off  the  Outside  Window 

"Oh,  where  is  my  darling  Ellery?"  she  wailed, 
wringing  her  hands. 

They  discovered  him  after  a  time,  wandering  aim- 
lessly  about  behind  the  stable,  hunting  for  a  screw- 
driver and  muttering  incoherently.  He  still  wore  the 
barrel,  and  when  a  sympathizing  carpenter  offered  to 
take  it  off,  Mr.  Wigglesworth  burst  into  tears  and 
refused  to  let  anybody  touch  him. 

They  then  saw  how  intense  the  rays  of  the  sun  had 
been. 


89 


Chapter  IX 

How  Wigglesworth 
Rode  Horseback 


"  At  every  third  bound  of  the  horse,  a  bound  shorter  and 
more  skippy  than  the  other  two,  the  rider  would  go  into  the 
air.''  —  Page  97. 


CHAPTER    iX  —  H<yw     Wiggles<worth    Rode 
Horseback 


f~        ~"^HE  minister's  wife  was  here  this  after- 
noon," said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth. 

"  Humph, "    grunted    Mr.    Wiggles- 

-  worth,  "  what   kind  of  a  show  is  she 

getting  up  now  to  help  raise  her  husband's  salary  ? " 

"They're  going  on  a  little  family  picnic  to  Pine 
Hill  tomorrow,  "  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  hesitatingly, 
"  and  want  us  to  go  with  them.  I  told  them  I  would 
ask  you,  but  I  didn't  think  you'd  care  to  go. " 

"That's  it  I  "  cried  her  husband,  jabbing  his  knife 
savagely  into  a  biscuit,  "  try  to  keep  me  out  of  all 
the  fun  you  can.  Keep  Wigglesworth  tied  up  in  the 
office  earning  money  so  you  can  swell  around  in 
society,  wearing  clothes — that's  the  way.  I  hate 
such  selfishness. " 

"  She  said, "  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  went  on,  "  that  I 
could  ride  in  the  carryall  with  them,  and  that  they 
would  borrow  Mr.  Bimley's  horse  for  you  to  ride  — 
if  —  if   you  thought   you  could, "  she  added,  doubt- 
fully. 

"  Thought  I  could  ? "  echoed  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
scornfully.  "  Why  not  ?  Ain't  I  as  well  able  to  ride 
a  horse  as  any  of  your  family?  It  may  be  some 
time  since  I  was  on  a  saddle,  but  I  don't  have  to 
have  none  of  you  nor  your  stiff-necked  ministers  to 
show  me  how. " 

93 


Hoew  Wiggleseworth 


The  woman  next  door  looking  out  of  window  the 
following  morning,  saw  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  loading 
into  the  carriage,  along  with  the  minister  and  his 
wife,  three  baskets,  four  children  and  other  concomi- 
tants of  a  family  picnic. 

"  Rejoiced  to  see  you,  Brother  Wigglesworth,  "  ex- 
claimed the  minister,  heartily,  as  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
came  down  the  walk.  "Nature  is  unusually  pro- 
pitious for  our  little  outing  and  our  hearts  should 
sing  with  gladness. " 

"That's  so,"  Mr.  Wigglesworth  acknowledged. 
"  Where 's  my  horse  ? " 

At  that  instant  a  boy  appeared,  towing  a  long, 
gaunt  animal,  once  white  in  color,  with  a  mere  wisp 
of  a  mane  and  a  tail  of  bobbish  character.  He  was 
a  horse  who  held  up  his  head  and  regarded  the  world 
with  suspicion. 

"  Whoa  1 "  yelled  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  as  the  horse 
tried  to  step  on  him.  "What  ye  trying  to  do?"  he 
said  to  the  boy,  threateningly.  "  Why  don't  ye  hold 
on  to  that  bridle,  same's  you're  hired  to?  Whoa, 
hossy,  whoa!"  he  said  in  a  soothing  tone.  "Now, 
then,  stand  still  and  I  '11  get  on." 

But  when  Mr.  Wigglesworth  took  hold  of  the 
saddle  and  raised  a  foot  to  the  stirrup  the  gaunt 
horse  gave  a  little  jump  to  one  side  and  breathed 
heavily. 

"Whoa!"  shouted  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  as  loudly 
as  he  cared  to  with  the  minister  present.  "Why 
don't  ye  hold  the  horse  still  ? "  he  said  savagely  to 
the  boy  at  the  end  of  the  bridle. 

94 


Rode  Horseback 


"How  kin  I  hold  her  still?"  retorted  the  boy, 
about  whom  the  horse  now  went  revolving,  closely 
followed  by  Mr.  Wigglesworth.  "Git  on  her  back 
an'  she  '11  stand  still." 

"  Don't  ye  give  me  none  of  your  sarse,"  threatened 
Mr.  Wigglesworth,  glaring  at  the  boy,  "  or  I  '11  take 
and  knock  the  head  off'n  you.  Whoa  —  whoa,  good 
hossy  I " 

Several  times  Mr.  Wigglesworth  got  a  toe  in  the 
stirrup,  but  the  instant  he  essayed  to  lift  himself,  the 
horse  would  flaunt  her  little  bud  of  a  tail  and  waltz 
skittishly  away,  while  Mr.  Wigglesworth  would  come 
heavily  to  the  ground  and  the  boy  at  the  end  of  the 
reins  would  feel  his  arms  yank  out  of  their  sockets. 
When  this  performance  had  been  repeated  for  the 
twentieth  time  they  gave  heed  to  the  advice  which 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth  had  for  several  minutes  earnestly 
been  promulgating. 

"Fetch  Ellery  one  of  the  kitchen  chairs,"  she 
called,  and  the  minister,  solicitous  for  the  success  of 
the  picnic  dinner,  went  and  got  it. 

"  Now,"  he  suggested,  "  perhaps  I  can  assist  you, 
Brother  Wigglesworth.  If  you  will  stand  in  the 
chair,  the  boy  and  I  will  push  the  horse  up  to  you, 
and,  doubtless,  you  can  then  mount  with  celerity." 

It  wasn't  a  very  horsemanlike  proceeding,  but  the 
forenoon  was  wasting  and  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  with  a 
hot,  red  face,  angrily  agreed  to  it. 

"  I  '11  take  it  out  of  him  when  I  get  him  on  the 
road,"  he  muttered  with  an  awful  air  of  revenge,  as 
he  stood  up  in  the  chair. 

95 


Hoew  Wigglescworth 


It  was  a  successful  manoeuvre.  Flanking  the 
gaunt  steed  the  minister  pushed  him  gently  toward 
the  waiting  Wigglesworth,  who  slipped  a  leg  over  the 
saddle  before  the  astonished  animal  realized  the  confi- 
dence game  that  was  being  played  upon  him.  Just  at 
that  instant  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  had  climbed  out  of 
the  carriage  in  an  earnest  desire  to  lend  assistance. 
Flinging  his  head  around  with  a  little  gust  of  disap- 
pointment, the  horse  saw  her  close  upon  him,  waving 
her  parasol,  and  with  a  loud  snort  he  waltzed  across 
to  the  opposite  sidewalk,  Mr.  Wigglesworth  clutching 
wildly  at  the  scanty  mane  and  poking  his  feet  madly 
about  in  vain  search  of  the  stirrups. 

"What  ye  doing?"  he  yelled,  as  the  horse  fluttered 
nervously  against  the  fence ;  "  what  kind  of  a  fool  you 
trying  to  act  out  this  time  ?  " 

"  I  did  n't  mean  to  do  anything,"  answered  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth,  abashed  and  frightened ;  "  I  was  only 
going  to  help,  and  the  horse  saw  me  and  —  and 
jumped." 

"  Well,  what  ye  expect  ?  "  cried  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
angrily.  "  What  ye  s'pose  he  'd  do  when  he  saw  you  ? 
Wonder  he  had  n't  dashed  my  lungs  out  on  a  telephone 
pole — get  out  1 — keep  away,  can't  ye  ? "  he  yelled,  as 
his  wife  came  nearer,  uttering  some  coaxing  phrases, 
and  putting  out  a  hand  to  soothe  the  agitated  beast. 

"  Whoa,  good  little  hossy,"  she  said  in  sugary  tones. 

"  Get  away ! "  shouted  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  as  the 
horse,  unwon  by  these  blandishments,  ground  his 
rider's  leg  against  a  fence  post.  "  What  ye  doing  with 
that  blamed  old  red  umbrella  —  put  it  up,  can't  ye?" 

96 


Rode  Horseback 


There  are  many  inscrutable  things  in  this  life,  and 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  always  has  maintained  that  his 
wife  is  one  of  them.  When  he  shouted  for  her  to 
put  up  the  red  sunshade  that  she  was  nervously 
fluttering  in  her  hand,  she  put  it  up,  only  she  did  it 
the  other  way.  As  its  circular  form  flamed  forth  with 
a  crackling  noise,  the  gaunt  steed,  already  over- 
wrought with  the  confusion  and  loud  shouting, 
gathered  his  feet  under  him  and  bolted  around  the 
corner. 

Summer  visitors  out  for  a  morning  stroll  were  sur- 
prised to  see  a  long,  bony  horse  flashing  by,  wearing 
a  rider  who,  apparently,  was  unaccustomed  to  that 
style  of  locomotion.  The  rider's  feet  were  thrust 
through  the  stirrups  to  their  ankles  and  his  trousers 
were  worked  up  nearly  to  the  knee.  At  every  third 
bound  of  the  horse,  a  bound  shorter  and  more  skippy 
than  the  other  two,  the  rider  would  go  into  the  air,  so 
that  persons  of  quick  vision,  standing  behind,  could 
look  under  him  and  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  town 
clock.  Then  he  would  come  down  again,  sometimes 
on  the  horse's  neck  and  sometimes  on  the  pommel  of 
the  saddle. 

After  this  section  of  the  parade  had  gone  by,  and 
quiet  was  settling  down,  the  by-standers  were  again 
startled  with  an  apparition  of  a  large,  old-fashioned 
carryall,  filled  with  white-faced  children,  lunch  baskets 
and  three  grown  persons.  A  clerical-looking  gentle- 
man in  spectacles,  and  without  a  hat,  was  urging  for- 
ward the  astonished-looking  horse,  spurring  him  on 

97 


Rode  Horseback 


with  loud  words  of  encouragement,  and  staring  stead- 
fastly ahead  with  a  countenance  upon  which  horror 
sat,  while  a  fainty-looking  woman  clung  on  the  rear 
seat  and  aimlessly  branished  a  red  umbrella. 


98 


Chapter  X 

H&w  Wiggle&worth 
Played  Croquet 


"  At  every  blow,  struck  with  terrific  violence,  a  wire  w'cket 
would  go  sailing  through  the  air." — Page  /oj. 


CHAPTER   X.  —  Hov>    Wigglesworth    Played 
Croquet 


f  ~"^ELL  ye  what  it  is,"  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
puffed  as  he  labored  buttoning  his  vest, 
"  I'm  getting  too  stout.  What  I  need's 
exercise." 

"Why,  I  don't  think  you're  any  too  stout,"  his 
wife  returned  through  a  mouthful  of  shell  hairpins ; 
"  I  think  you  look  nice." 

"Course,"  sniffed  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  "that's  the 
way  a  woman  looks  at  it.  Want  me  to  swell  up  with 
apoplexy,  don 't  ye,  and  have  an  effusion  on  the  brain  ? 
Be  fun,  you  think,  to  have  a  doctor  come  and  let  out 
two  quarts  of  blood  on  the  carpet,  and  then  charge 
eighty  dollars  for  showing  me  how  to  get  it 
back  again.  That's  the  way  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
economizes." 

"There!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  toiling  up 
the  steps  at  noon  and  setting  down  a  long  flat  box ; 
"there's  something  that  s  got  life  in  it." 

"  Why,  Ellery,  what  is  it  ? "  said  his  wife,  giving  a 
little  scream  and  backing  away. 

"  Don 't  shy,"  grinned  Mr.  Wigglesworth ;  "  t  won 't 
bite.  It's  a  croquet  set,"  he  added  triumphantly, 
throwing  open  the  lid  and  disclosing  the  brightly 
painted  balls  and  mallets. 

"  O-o-o-o-h-h ! "  cried  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  clapping 
her  hands,  "  how  nice  1  And  will  we  play  with  it  ? " 


How  Wiggtesworth 


"  Play  with  it  1 "  mimicked  Mr.  Wigglesworth ; 
"wha'd  ye  think  we'd  do;  hang  it  on  the  parlor 
wall  ?  Might  wear  it  to  the  Governor's  reception,  I 
s  'pose.  Or  mebbe  the  hired  girl  would  like  to  stuff 
a  turkey  with  it  —  she's  tried  most  everything  else." 

Finishing  his  dinner  to  the  accompaniment  of  this 
style  of  comment,  Mr.  Wigglesworth  went  out  on  the 
lawn  and  adjusted  the  wire  hoops  according  to 
diagram. 

"  Best  exercise  in  the  world,"  he  boasted,  waving  a 
mallet  in  the  air.  "  Old  Wetherbee  told  me  he  re- 
duced his  weight  nine  pounds  in  two  weeks.  Come 
down  here  1 "  he  called  to  his  wife,  "  and  let 's  have  a 
game." 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  under  her  husband's  direction, 
adjusted  the  ball. 

"  Do  I  knock  it  through  this  first  wicket  first  ? " 
she  asked. 

"  Course,  "  answered  Mr.  Wigglesworth ;  "think  ye 
had  to  knock  it  through  the  last  one  first  ?  Might 
try  to  get  it  through  the  seventh  one  fourth,  I  s'pose. 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth's  new  rules  for  croquet,  got  up 
by  herself. " 

Putting  her  tongue  between  her  teeth  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  struck  smartly  at  the  ball  and  dug  a  hole  in 
the  lawn.  Quickly  recovering,  she  dealt  a  second 
stroke,  avoided  the  ball  and  tore  the  wicket  out  of 
the  ground. 

"  That's  the  way, "  howled  Mr.  Wigglesworth. 
"That's  the  way  to  go  through  the  wickets." 

102 


Played  Croquet 

He  plucked  the  bent  wire  from  his  wife's  mallet 
and  thrust  it  back  in  the  ground. 

"  Lemme  show  ye, "  he  said  in  a  tone  of  import- 
ance, while  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  stood  back  and  ad- 
justed her  hair. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  sent  his  ball  through  the  first 
wicket,  and  nearly  got  it  through  the  second,  and 
probably  would  have  done  so  anyway  if  the  minister 
hadn't  leaned  over  the  fence  at  that  moment  and  dis- 
concerted his  aim. 

"  Delightful  game, "  commented  the  minister  in  a 
kindly  tone.  "  Full  of  life,  requiring  the  exercise  of 
skill  and  an  admirable  discipline  for  the  temper.  I 
am  very  fond  of  it. " 

Encouraged  by  this  favorable  opinion  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  bunted  her  ball  under  the  wire  arch  and  struck 
the  ball  of  her  opponent. 

"Bravo!"  cried  the  minister,  gleefully  clapping 
his  hands ;  "  an  exceedingly  clever  stroke.  Now,  you 
can  croquet  his  ball  out  of  your  way." 

The  minister  ostentatiously  explained  how  this 
could  be  done,  and  under  his  instruction  Mrs.  Wig- 
glesworth sent  her  husband's  ball  merrily  bounding 
to  the  far  extremity  of  the  lawn,  slowly  followed  by 
the  husband  himself.  The  minister  was  a  finished 
performer  and  with  his  intelligent  assistance  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth  discovered,  a  skill  that  nobody  could 
have  believed  her  capable  of.  Smoothly  she  glided 
through  the  wickets,  tapped  pleasantly  against  the 
turning  stake,  and  then  set  her  sails  for  the  return 

103 


HCKV  Wiggleseworth 


home,  while  anon  she  would  pounce  upon  her  hus- 
band's opposing  forces  and  rout  them  out  of  the 
county. 

"You  think  yourself  mighty  smart,  don't  ye?" 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  growled  between  his  gritted  teeth 
to  his  wife,  when  the  minister's  back  was  turned. 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  suffered  a  little  smile  of 
triumph  to  momentarily  flicker  into  her  face,  and  at 
that  the  blood  of  Wigglesworth  boiled  over. 

"  Who 's  playing  this  game,  anyway  ? "  he  snorted, 
glaring  at  the  minister. 

"Why,  Ellery!"  expostulated  Mrs.  Wigglesworth. 

"I  can  beat  the  whole  box  and  dice  of  yel" 
ejaculated  her  husband  angrily,  as,  with  a  lucky 
stroke,  the  balls  collided.  The  full  knowledge  of  the 
indignities  heaped  upon  him  in  the  game  surged 
through  his  recollection,  and  he  trod  the  balls  into 
close  conjunction. 

"  Look  out,  there  1 "  he  warned,  waving  the  minister 
to  one  side. 

Then  he  put  his  foot  on  the  ball,  lifted  his  mallet 
aloft  and  smote  with  a  strength  born  of  long-bottled- 
up  anger.  The  mallet  shrieked  through  its  circle, 
there  was  a  momentary  agitation  of  the  atmosphere, 
and  Mr.  Wigglesworth  was  rolling  among  the  wickets 
with  his  foot  in  both  hands  and  a  connected  stream 
of  yells  issuing  from  his  lips,  such  as  the  minister 
said  afterward  he  could  never  have  believed  the 
human  lungs  were  equal  to  producing. 

"  Wow  —  wow  —  wow ! "  howled  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 

104 


Played  Croquet 

curling  about  the  home  stake  and  thrusting  one  leg 
up  towards  the  heavens  while  he  still  gripped  the 
other  foot  affectionately. 

"  Let  me  help  you, "  suggested  the  minister,  lean- 
ing over  him  with  a  \ook  of  sympathy  in  his  counte- 
nance. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  straightened  out  like  a  cracked 
spring. 

"You  get  out  of  this  yard!"  he  yelled;  "don't 
you  think  because  I  go  to  your  church  and  drop  an 
envelope  in  the  contribution  box  that  you  can  come 
around  here  putting  on  airs  and  trying  to  make  my 
wife  think  she's  the  head  of  the  family  1  I  want  you 
to  understand  that  I  can  run  this  ranch  without 
any  —  " 

With  a  face  frozen  in  horror  the  minister  already 
had  dashed  up  the  street,  and  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
turned  the  battery  on  his  wife.  But  that  lady  had 
discreetly  vanished. 

The  woman  next  door  saw  a  man  prancing  wildly 
about  the  lawn,  waving  above  his  head  a  painted 
mallet.  At  every  blow,  struck  with  terrific  violence, 
a  wire  wicket  would  go  sailing  through  the  air  and 
rattle  the  stable  roof  far  distant.  The  man  limped 
dreadfully,  the  woman  next  door  declared,  and  ac- 
companied each  limp  with  a  groan  and  some  remarks 
that  were  more  than  adequate  to  the  occasion.  So 
there  can  be  no  doubt  that  it  was  Mr.  Wigglesworth. 


105 


Chapter  XI 

How  Wigglesworth 
Celebrated  the 
Fourth 


"  '  Me  and  the  Dodley  twins  used  to  stay  out  all  night  firing 
guns  and  making  more  noise  than  a  horse  could  haul.'"  — 
Page  no. 


CHAPTER    XI.— How    Wigglesworth    Cele- 
bated  the  Fourth. 

BOOM  !  said  the  cannon. 
Jangle  —  rangle  —  crash  1    went   the 
church  bells  crazily. 
Fitz  —  crackle  —  b-r-r-r-r  —  bang !  that 
was  the  small  boy  with  the  giant  cracker. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  lifted  an  inflamed  face  from  the 
pillow  and  glared  about  the  apartment.  The  hair 
that  by  day  he  wore  carefully  brushed  up  over  his 
bald  place  hung  in  a  limp  and  dish-rag  condition. 

"  Oh,  dear  1 "  wailed  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  "  I  have  n't 
slept  a  wink  since  twelve  o'clock." 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  dashed  his  fists  savagely  into  the 
pillow. 

"If  I  had  them  boys  here,"  he  cried  in  a  hoarse 
scream,  "I'd  take  and  knock  their  heads  off! " 

Everybody  feels  that  way  during  the  pale  morning 
hours  of  Independence  Day,  but  with  the  arrival  of 
breakfast  and  the  momentary  cessation  of  hostilities 
softer  sentiments  are  apt  to  prevail.  Even  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  felt  the  asperity  of  his  nature  soften- 
ing as  Imogene  brought  in  the  eggs. 

"After  all,  boys  have  to  be  boys,"  he  allowed, 
wiping  the  egg  from  his  cuff. 

"  I  don't  see  why,"  complained  Mrs.  Wigglesworth, 
"and  my  head  aching  fit  to  split." 

"  Poh  1 "  returned  her  husband,  "  what 's  the  use  to 
109 


How  Wiggleseworth 


complain  of  a  little  thing  like  that  ?  Ain't  ye  willing 
the  boys  should  have  some  fun  once  a  year  without 
your  getting  out  a  headache  and  trying  to  break  it  all 
up  ?  What  ye  want  to  be  so  selfish  for  ? " 

"They  didn't  act  that  way  when  I  was  young," 
sighed  Mrs.  Wiggles  worth.  Mr.  Wigglesworth  looked 
at  his  wife  sternly. 

"  When  you  was  young  ? "  he  repeated  with  great 
sarcasm  ;  "  pro  'bly  not.  Impossible  to  recall  what 
were  the  manners  and  customs  when  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  was  young.  Boys  went  to  Sunday  School 
picnics,  pro'bly,  and  drank  lemonade  out  of  tin  dip- 
pers. But  that  wa'n't  the  way  with  me,"  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth boastfully  added ;  "  me  and  the  Dodley 
twins  used  to  stay  out  all  night,  firing  guns  and 
making  more  noise  than  a  horse  could  haul." 

"  It  must  have  been  dreadful,"  shuddered  his  wife. 

"  Dreadful  nothing,"  retorted  Mr.  Wigglesworth ; 
"it  was  fun.  Aleck  Dodley  used  to  cut  up  the 
greatest  pranks  in  the  world  and  he  had  the  loudest 
gun  you  ever  heard." 

"  I  'm  glad  I  don't  have  to  hear  it  now,"  said  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth. 

"Y-a-a-h-h?"  cried  her  husband,  pushing  away 
from  the  table,  "  I  hate  such  selfishness.  Where  'd 
this  country  be,  I'd  like  to  know,  if  King  George 
had  had  his  way  ?  " 

With  which  unanswerable  bit  of  logic  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth  repaired  to  the  hammock  and  enjoyed  the 
luxury  of  a  morning  holiday  cigar.  Backward  over 

no 


Celebrated  the  Fourth 


the  years  his  thoughts  went  trailing,  and  he  was  a 
boy  again,  wandering  the  country  lanes  with  the 
mighty  Aleck  Dodley,  splitting  the  heavens  with  the 
loud  discharges  of  their  guns,  and  being  brought 
home  in  the  early  morning  hours  with  a  large  quantity 
of  powder  suddenly  inserted  into  his  countenance. 

"Boys  don't  have  such  times,  these  days,"  mut- 
tered Mr.  Wigglesworth  to  himself;  "they're  slow. 
Me  and  the  Dodley  twins  were  smarter  than  a  whole 
trainload  of  'em." 

Pursuing  this  train  of  thought  it  was  natural  for 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  at  length  to  be  seized  with  a 
mighty  suggestion. 

"I'll  do  it!"  he  exclaimed,  smiting  his  leg;  "I'll 
show  these  people  how  to  wind  up  a  Fourth,  if  they 
don't  know  how  to  open  it." 

Shortly  afterwards  he  rushed  into  the  fireworks 
store  and  gave  an  order  that  caused  the  proprietor  to 
rub  his  hands. 

"  Shall  we  send  up  a  man  this  evening  to  operate 
them  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Certainly  not,"  replied  Mr.  Wigglesworth  a  little 
tartly;  "I  reckon  I  can  poke  off  a  few  fireworks 
without  having  to  be  shown  how." 

It  was  a  surprisingly  large  box  that  the  expressman 
later  unloaded  on  the  lawn.  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
walked  around  it  admiringly  with  his  hands  in  his 
pockets. 

"Ellery  Wigglesworth!"  called  his  wife  sternly 
iron?  the  parlor  window,  "you  don't  mean  to  tell  me 

in 


Wigglestworth 


that  those  are  the  fireworks  you  are  going  to  have  ? " 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  kept  on  whistling. 

"If  you've  any  friends  that  want  to  see  the 
biggest  exhibition  in  town,"  he  said  presently,  "you 
better  trot  'em  around." 

The  blazing  sun  in  due  season  sank  down  the 
west  and  night  brought  out  "the  stars,  also  a  large 
quantity  of  boys  who  roosted  on  the  Wigglesworth 
fence  and  prepared  for  any  emergency,  while  the 
verandah  became  a  bower  of  lovely  women  in 
beautiful  summer  evening  dress. 

"  Rejoiced  to  see  you,  Brother  Wigglesworth, " 
said  the  minister,  arriving  at  that  moment  with  his 
wife ;  "  we  received  your  invitation  and  hastened 
hither  with  much  alacrity.  It  is  eminently  fitting, " 
added  the  minister,  surveying  the  scene  and  practicing 
a  gesture  for  the  following  Sunday,  "  that  we  should 
in  this  manner  testify  to  the  bravery  of  our  fore- 
fathers in  —  in  throwing  off  England's  —  er — gall- 
ing —  er  —  er — galling  " 

"  Yoke,  "  suggested  his  wife. 

"Precisely,"  said  the  minister,  "yoke  —  the  very 
word  I  was  about  to  employ  —  certainly. " 

"  We'll  open  the  show,  "  called  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
striding  out  upon  the  lawn  with  a  becoming  air  of 
importance,  "with  a  sky  rocket.  She's  going  to  rise 
more  'n  a  mile,  so  keep  your  eye  on  her.  " 

He  stood  the  rocket  up  and  laid  a  match  to  it. 
Then  another  match.  Then  another. 

"  What   ails    these  miserable   matches  ?  "  snapped 

112 


Celebrated  the  Fourth 


Mr.  Wigglesworth,  as  he  scratched  yet  another, 
which  also  burned  itself  out  in  harmless  contact  with 
the  rocket.  Mr.  Wigglesworth  flung  it  to  the 
ground. 

"  Ellery  Wigglesworth !  "  cried  his  wife  from  the 
verandah,  "you  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  say  such 
things,  with  all  these  people  here ! " 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  mashed  the  rocket  with  a  kick. 

"  Now  see  if  you  will  go  up  1 "  he  said,  grinding  it 
into  the  lawn. 

Then  he  picked  another  rocket  from  the  box  and 
made  a  second  attempt. 

"  Ellery, "  called  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  with  a  tone  of 
wisdom,  "  Mr.  Wetherbee  says  you  're  trying  to  light 
it  at  the  wrong  end. " 

Under  the  phosphorescence  of  the  burning  match 
the  glaring  countenance  that  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
turned  toward  the  verandah  was  positively  awful. 

"Whose  fireworks  are  these,  I'd  like  to  know?" 
he  growled  savagely. 

But  when  he  put  the  next  match  to  the  rocket's 
under  side  it  promptly  spirted  a  stream  of  hot  sparks 
on  his  trousers,  and  rising  with  a  siren  scream  dashed 
itself  with  great  violence  against  the  neighboring 
house,  painting  a  huge  picture  of  misery  on  its  pure 
white  side. 

"  Don't  you  send  any  more  of  those  fireworks  over 
here ! "  screamed  the  woman  next  door,  putting  her 
head  still  farther  out  of  the  window.  "  You'll  have 
to  pay  for  this,  and  don't  you  think  you  won't  1 " 

"3 


How  Wigglesworth 


"Ellery,"  called  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  in  the  tone 
that  women  love  to  assume  when  correcting  their 
husbands  before  company,  "Mr  Wetherbee  says  if 
you  want  him  to  he'll  come  down  there  and  show  you 
how." 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  at  that  moment  was  doing  some- 
thing with  a  roman  candle.  He  had  been  for  some 
time  holding  a  match  to  its  reluctant  fuse,  and  at  last 
to  encourage  it  had  blown  upon  it  vigorously,  so  that 
the  fuse,  in  waking  to  sudden  action,  had  singed  off 
Mr.  Wigglesworth's  eyebrows  and  partially  cooked 
the  whole  front  of  his  face.  Now  he  was  hopping 
about  the  lawn  in  an  eccentric  way,  trying  to  avoid 
the  showering  sparks,  while  the  balls  began  to  shoot 
out  of  the  candle,  the  first  one  ploughing  off  the  back 
hah*  of  the  woman  next  door,  who  thereupon  fetched 
such  a  scream  that  the  window  fell  down  on  her, 
pinning  her  there  with  her  body  out  in  the  night, 
and  the  second  one  setting  fire  to  the  minister's  wife, 
who  had  come  out  for  the  first  time  of  the  season  in 
a  white  lawn  dress  with  patriotic  red  and  blue  ribbons 
all  over  it,  and  who  promptly  threw  her  arms  about 
her  husband  with  a  yell  that  nearly  ruptured  the  ear- 
drums of  that  kind-hearted  gentleman. 

Then  Mr.  Wigglesworth's  gyrations  brought  the 
showering  candle  into  contact  with  the  open  box  of 
fireworks  and  here  the  pen  of  the  historian  stumbles. 

The  whole  neighborhood  was  instantly  lit  up  with  a 
blaze  of  glory,  through  which  appeared  the  revolving 
form  of  Mr.  Wigglesworth  in  the  guise  of  a  pyrotech- 


Celebrated  the  Fourth 


nic  Liberty  enlightening  the  whole  world.  Huge  sky 
rockets,  that  ordinarily  would  require  some  ingenuity 
to  arouse  into  life,  went  off  with  instant  precipitation, 
taking  the  skirts  of  Mr.  Wiggles  worth's  coat  with 
them.  Roman  candles  of  every  conceivable  color  and 
price  blew  their  contents  into  the  air  with  drunken 
screams  of  mirth,  while  several  miles  of  pin  wheels, 
uncoiling  themselves  like  the  spring  of  a  Waterbury 
watch,  clustered  in  wreaths  of  fiery  serpents  about 
the  proud  exhibitor's  form  and  furnished  the  minister 
with  a  realistic  text  on  Sodom  and  Gomorrah. 

"  My  darling  Ellery ! "  screamed  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth,  tottering  forward  when  the  smoke  of  conflict 
had  rolled  away. 

But  the  legs  of  his  trousers  were  so  chopped  off  to 
the  knee,  his  hands  were  blistered  so,  an  exploding 
mine  had  introduced  such  an  amount  of  Greek  fire 
into  his  face,  and  a  playful  giant  cracker  had  carried 
away  so  large  a  quantity  of  his  Prince  Albert  whiskers, 
that  it  is  doubtful  if  even  the  Dodley  twins  could  have 
recognized  him. 


Chapter  XII 

How  Wiggleseworth 
Went  Sailing 


" '  O-o-h-h,  Ellery,'  she  moaned."— Page  123. 


CHAPTER  XII.—  Ho<w    Wigglesworth    Went 
Sailing 


1 


Presbyterian  Sunday-school  had  settled 
on  a  water  excursion  for  its  annual 
Summer  outing,  and  Willie  Wiggles- 
worth  came  home  filled  with  it. 

"Will  I  go?"  said  Mr.  Wigglesworth  grandly ;  "of 
course  I  '11  go.  And  I  '11  show  ye  how  to  take  a  day 
off  and  enjoy  yourself,  too.  If  your  mother  wants  to 
hang  around  the  house  here  and  be  a  mummy,  she 
can ;  but  I  don't  propose  to  dry  up  that  way." 

The  day  was  bright  and  a  royal  breeze  from  the 
northwest  filled  the  air  with  invigorating  life  and 
made  the  waves  of  the  harbor  to  dance  merrily.  The 
steamboat  Daniel  Webster,  gay  in  bunting,  lay  at  the 
wharf  while  the  children  swarmed  on  board  and  fell 
over  things  that  were  apparently  made  for  land  people 
to  fall  over.  The  Wigglesworth  party  arrived  just  as 
the  lines  were  casting  off  and  the  paddles  entering 
upon  their  preliminary  churning.  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
had  the  basket  in  one  hand  and  Willie  in  the  other, 
and  her  face  was  very  red  with  haste. 

"Hold  on  there!"  called  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  in  a 
voice  of  authority  ;  "  why  don't  ye  wait  till  people  are 
aboard?" 

"Why  don't  you  get  round  the  same  day?"  called 
back  the  captain ;  "  everybody  else 's  been  aboard  half 
an  hour." 

119 


H&w  Wigglesworth 


With  much  shouting  and  pulling,  and  some  language 
on  the  part  of  the  deck  hands  that  did  n't  accord  with 
the  character  of  the  picnic,  but  seemed  in  a  measure 
justified,  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  and  Willie  were  hoisted 
over  the  rail  and  Mr.  Wigglesworth  followed,  trailing 
his  white  duck  trousers  over  a  rope  that  appeared  to 
have  been  newly  tarred  for  that  purpose. 

"Rejoiced  to  see  you  here,"  said  the  minister, 
cordially  shaking  Mr.  Wigglesworth's  hand  and  get- 
ting some  of  the  tar  off  it. 

"  Yes,  I  thought  I  'd  come,"  responded  that  gentle- 
man, gloomily  contemplating  his  trousers. 

"  Delightful  ? "  the  minister  said  with  enthusiasm. 
"  We  are  a  large  party,  and  it  gladdens  my  heart  to 
behold  the  little  folks  in  their  fresh  young  life  and 
exhuberance  of  spirits." 

"That's  so,"  assented  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  some- 
what mollified  as  the  salt  breeze  began  playing 
through  his  whiskers. 

Gathering  speed,  the  Daniel  Webster  clave  the 
dancing  waters,  the  flags  flaunted  bravely,  a  brass 
band  on  the  upper  deck  crashed  into  the  measures  of 
"A  Life  on  the  Ocean  Wave,"  and  boys  of  remarkable 
smallness  began  to  implore  their  mothers  for  cake. 
Mr.  Wigglesworth,  cocking  his  wide-brimmed  straw 
hat  rakishly  to  one  side,  started  for  a  stroll  about  the 
deck. 

"  Don't  leave  me,  Ellery,"  pleaded  his  wife,  "  I  beg 
of  you." 

"What's   the   matter?"   querulously   replied   Mr. 

120 


Went  Sailing 

Wigglesworth ;  "  think  we  're  going  to  strike  on  the 
rocks  and  go  down  with  all  hands?  —  with  tar  on 
'em,"  he  added,  glowering  at  his  own. 

"These  boats  are  never  safe,"  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
hinted. 

"I  guess  this  one  is,"  retorted  her  husband; 
"  they  've  got  her  tied  with  a  rope.  What  ye  'fraid 
of,  anyway  ?  Think  somebody's  going  to  bore  a  hole 
in  her  and  sink  her  so 's  to  drown  the  whole  of  us 
and  get  our  life  insurance  ? " 

"But — but  suppose  it  should  tip  over?"  suggested 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  clutching  nervously  at  her  hus- 
band's arm. 

'•  Yah  1 "  exclaimed  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  shaking  off 
her  grasp,  "  what  ye  think  it  is,  a  lamp  ?  Puts  ye  in 
mind  of  a  centre  table  with  a  vase  on  it,  prob'ly. 
Why  can't  ye  act  rational,  now  ye've  got  me  out 
here  ?  What's  the  use  coming  on  an  excursion  if  ye 
can't  enter  into  the  thing  and  enjoy  yourself,  same's 
I  do." 

"  But  I  begin  to  feel  sick,  Ellery, "  expostulated 
his  wife. 

"  That's  it !  "  Mr.  Wigglesworth  cried  ;  "that's  the 
way  to  have  a  good  time.  Come  out  here  for  fun 
and  then  call  for  a  doctor's  certificate  the  first  thing. 
Why  didn't  ye  stay  to  home  ?  What's  the  use  break- 
ing out  into  society  that  way  and  spoiling  the  whole 
thing  ? " 

Under  the  soft  side  of  an  island,  near  the  mouth 
of  the  harbor,  the  Daniel  Webster  lay  to,  while  the 

121 


Haw  Wigglesworth 


excursionists,  with  merry  hearts,  opened  their  baskets 
and  had  dinner.  Men  and  women  of  high  character, 
but  low  digestive  faculties,-  flung  themselves  into  a 
perfect  abandon  of  hard-boiled  eggs  and  pie,  while 
the  minister,  a  special  favorite,  had  something  from 
every  basket.  Children  with  jam  on  their  fingers 
came  and  took  hold  of  pure  white  dresses  belonging 
to  their  maiden  aunts  and  begged  for  more  Washing- 
ton pie,  and  got  it.  Young  men  in  the  first  faint 
flush  of  early  moustaches  took  their  third  and  fourth 
cream  tart,  and  smearing  some  of  the  cream  over 
the  moustaches,  left  it  there,  and  thus  established  to 
the  eyes  of  the  world  what  they  were  striving  to 
accomplish.  Maidens,  giddy  with  excitement,  spilled 
uncounted  glasses  of  lemonade  into  the  laps  of  their 
lawn  dresses  and  laughed  aloud.  Even  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  under  the  excitement  of  the  moment  forgot 
his  dyspepsia,  and  loaded  himself  to  the  muzzle. 

Then  the  Daniel  Webster  turned  prow  for  home. 
The  local  papers  have  explained  how  the  wind  had 
unexpectedly  whipped  around  to  the  southeast  and 
gone  to  prying  up  the  lower  waters,  over  whose 
crested  and  yeasty  tops  the  Daniel  Webster  now 
went  rockily  careering,  but  none  of  their  columns  has 
been  equal  to  adequately  setting  forth  the  scenes  that 
the  decks  of  the  steamer  speedily  presented.  Nor 
does  the  present  historian  consider  himself  equal  to 
the  emergency. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth,  his  hat  blown  overboard,  and 
smears  of  jelly  mingled  with  the  tar  on  his  white  duck 


122 


Went  Sailing 

trousers,  staggered  aft  along  the  deck.     Mrs.  Wig- 
glesworth  saw  him  coming  and  tottered  forward. 

"O-o-h-h,  Ellery!"  she  moaned,  falling  limply 
about  his  neck. 

"  Get  out  1 "  shouted  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  his  pale 
face  twitching  in  passion ;  "  what  ye  trying  to  act  out 
now?" 

"Oh,  I  feel  so  —  so  sick!  "  groaned  his  wife. 

"  Sick !  "  snorted  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  struggling  to 
get  free,  "  what 's  that  got  to  do  with  it  ?  Wha  'd  ye 
s  'pose  when  ye  came  out  here  ?  Did  n't  I  tell  ye  how 
'twould  be  ?  Ever  know  me  to  miss  it  ?  Le  'go  my 
neck ! " 

Saying  this,  he  wrenched  himself  loose  and  his  wife 
fell  in  a  huddle  on  the  deck,  while  the  impetus  shot 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  under  a  seat,  where  he  curled  up 
against  a  pile  of  life  preservers,  and  stayed  there,  giv- 
ing utterance  to  a  variety  of  groans  that  nobody  in 
the  whole  ship's  company  could  equal,  though  every- 
body tried,  and  some  of  them  claiming  afterwards, 
out  of  a  spirit  of  church  loyalty,  that  the  minister 
came  quite  near  it. 

"  You  're  a  nice  hand,"  growled  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
as  they  were  being  drawn  home  in  a  hack,  "to  go 
round  getting  up  picnics,  aint  ye  ? " 

"I  —  I  hadn't  any  idea  it  would  be  so  rough," 
moaned  his  wife.  "  But  I  thought  you  were  sick,  too." 

"  Hoh ! "  sniffed  Mr.  Wigglesworth  ;  "  there  was  n't 
anything  much  the  matter  with  me.  '  F  I  had  n't 
eaten  that  second  piece  of  lemon  pie  I  'd  been  as 
kinky  as  the  best  of  'em." 

123 


Chapter  XIII 

How  Wigglestworth 
Mowed  the  Lawn 


"  '  Get  out  of  the  way,  then,'  snapped  Mr.  Wtgglesworth." 
-  Page  129. 


T|      *\ 
•   ^ 
»    . 


CHAPTER  XIII.  —  Hcnv  Wigglesworth  Mowed 
the  Lafwn 

LLERY,"  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  with  a 
little  air  of  timidity. 

"  Umphhmmm  ?  "  grunted  Mr.    Wig- 
glesworth,  being  engrossed  in  his  paper, 
as  a  husband  usually  is. 

"  I  wish  you  'd  send  up  a  man  to  mow  the  lawn," 
said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  toying  nervously  with  the 
leaves  of  her  magazine. 

"  Oh,  of  course,"  replied  her  husband,  deep  in  an 
article  on  the  financial  question,  "  send  up  a  man  — 
that  's  the  way.  That  's  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  the  great 
political  economist.  How  to  support  the  unemployed 
out  of  your  husband's  pocket-book,  by  Mrs.  E.  Wig- 
glesworth, the  celebrated  free  silver  agitatress,  eight 
cents  a  copy  or  three  copies  for  twenty-five  cents." 

"  I  know  these  things  cost  lots  of  money,"  returned 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  tapping  her  teeth  with  the  paper 
cutter,  "and  I  want  to  save  every  cent  possible  —  of 
course  I  do.  Can't  you  mow  it,  Ellery?  You  can 
borrow  Mr.  Wetherbee's  lawn  mower  and  — 

"That  's  it,  that  's  the  way,"  broke  in  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  with  a  bitter  laugh;  that's  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth's  idea  of  economy,"  he  added,  nodding  sarcas- 
tically to  the  lamp;  "le's  save  on  the  two-dollar 
laborer,  says  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  but  never  mind  how 
much  we  pile  onto  the  old  man  —  oh,  no,  never  mind 

127 


Wigglesworth 


old  Wiggles  worth.  Sock  it  to  Wiggles  worth  all  you 
can,  that 's  her  idea.  Never  mind  how  sick  and  tired 
Wigglesworth  gets,  slaving  at  the  office  all  day  to 
support  my  extravagances,  I  '11  pile  the  stuff  onto 
him  when  he  gets  home,  says  Mrs.  Wigglesworth. 
That 's  what  she  says.  I  despise  such  selfishness  ? " 
cried  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  pausing  to  violently  wipe  off 
his  heated  countenance. 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  found  herself  too  dizzy  to  com- 
bat the  rotary  character  of  her  husband's  eloquence, 
so  she  wisely  refrained  from  saying  anything.  Some- 
times a  man's  wife  will  do  that  way. 

The  grass  on  the  lawn  was  certainly  very  high. 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  noticed  this  fact  again  as  he 
started  for  the  office  next  morning.  No  mortal  man, 
he  reflected,  could  push  a  lawn  mower  through  such 
a  sturdy  growth. 

"A  scythe  is  what  you  need, "  muttered  Mr. 
Wigglesworth,  apostrophizing  the  grass. 

Two  hours  later  a  large,  fat  lady  fell  over  a  box  of 
shoes  standing  on  the  curbing,  thereby  permanently 
injuring  several  domestic  eggs  that  she  was  carrying 
home  in  a  paper  sack,  while  a  number  of  leading 
citizens  removed  nearly  two  gallons  of  fresh  paint 
from  an  adjacent  fence  in  their  haste  to  get  on  top  of 
it. 

In  another  moment  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  bearing  a 
new  scythe  in  his  grasp,  went  skimming  by. 

He  had  bought  the  scythe  at  a  store  where  they 
keep  such  things  to  sell.  He  told  the  man  that  he'd 

128 


Mowed  the  Laewn 


probably  mowed  thousands  of  acres  of  grass  when 
he.  was  a  boy.  City  men  who  were  originally  born 
on  a  farm  often  give  way  to  that  hallucination.  So 
the  store  keeper  had  let  him  have  the  scythe,  but 
when  he  saw  Mr.  Wigglesworth  stop  outside  the  door 
and  essay  to  hang  the  two  parts  of  the  scythe  to- 
gether, the  storekeeper  turned  pale  and  hastily  tele- 
phoned the  emergency  hospital. 

The  scythe  blade  was  a  Turkish  crescent  sort  of 
affair  on  an  enlarged  scale  and  it  had  a  wooden 
handle  that  cockscrewed  like  the  career  of  a  success- 
ful politician. 

"  Get  out  of  the  way,  then ! "  snapped  Mr.  Wig. 
glesworth,  as  a  long,  yellow  dog  turned  with  a  loud 
gesture  and  regarded  the  piece  of  bleeding  tail  that 
the  scythe  had  deposited  on  the  sidewalk. 

Ten  minutes  after  this  Mr.  Wigglesworth  had  the 
scythe  entangled  in  his  front  gate  and  was  yanking 
at  it  viciously. 

" Gash-flummux  the  old  thing!"  he  yelled,  aiming 
a  kick  at  the  sinuous  handle,  "what  ye  think  this 
is  —  a  Chinese  puzzle?"  and  then  he  tore  out  the 
bottom  of  a  trouser's  leg  on  it. 

"Why,  Ellery,  "  cried  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  appear- 
ing on  the  front  stoop,  hastily  rolling  up  her  apron, 
"  what  have  you  got  there  ? " 

"Got  there?"  sneered  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  grabbing 
up  a  piece  of  plank  and  knocking  at  the  handle 
savagely,  "what  ye  s'pose?  Looks  like  an  upright 
cook  stove,  don't  it  ?  Think  it's  a  gavel  made  from 

129 


How  Wiggleseworth 


the  birthplace  of  Roger  Williams,  don't  ye  ?  "  and 
then  the  handle  for  no  ostensible  reason  suddenly  un- 
threading itself  from  the  pickets,  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
shot  half-way  up  the  front  walk  with  it,  neatly  mow- 
ing off  half  a  dozen  gladiolus  (G.  -psit  tacinus)  before 
the  career  of  the  scythe  could  be  arrested. 

"Oh,  dear,  dear,  dear!"  moaned  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth,  wringing  the  apron,  "look  at  my  beautiful 
gladiolus. " 

"What  ye  s 'pose  I  care,"  shouted  her  husband, 
giving  the  prostrate  implement  another  kick ;  "  if 
you  hadn't  gone  and  shut  that  gate  in  my  face  I 
wouldn't  had  such  trouble  getting  inhere." 

"  But  what  are  you  going  to  do  with  that  scythe  ? " 
mildly  inquired  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  after  offering  a 
tribute  of  tears  to  the  gladiolus. 

"  Do  with  it  ?  "  retorted  her  husband,  throwing  off 
his  coat  with  an  air  of  importance,  "  mow  the  lawn 
with  it,  of  course.  What  ye  s  'pose  ?  Thought  I 
was  going  to  wash  the  windows  with  it  didn't  ye? 
Pro  'bly  reckoned  I  was  going  to  bore  an  artesian  well." 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  took  a  comprehensive  survey  of 
the  tall  grass  and  lifting  the  scythe  from  the  ground 
balanced  it  on  his  hands.  There  was  something 
wrong  about  it,  he  couldn't  say  just  where,  but  it 
twisted  itself  so  drunkenly,  and  the  blade  stood  off 
at  such  a  doubtful  angle,  that  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
questioned  in  his  own  heart  if  his  first  sweep  would 
take  out  a  row  of  pickets  or  cut  a  long  gash  down 
the  parlor  window  screen. 

130 


M&wed  the  La(wn 


"Ah,  Brother  Wigglesworth, "  called  the  familiar 
voice  of  the  minister,  "  mowing  this  morning  ?  " 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  regarded  the  good  man  with  a 
frown. 

"  No,"  he  replied,  in  a  tone  of  sarcasm,  "  I'm 
sewing  a  button  on  my  vest,"  and  he  looked  again 
at  his  scythe. 

"  Ha-ha-ha !  "  laughed  the  minister,  "  very  good, 
indeed.  Positively,  I  must  repeat  that  to  my  wife  — 
sewing  a  button  on  your  vest  —  ha-ha-ha  —  very 
good!  But  you  ought  to  turn  the  blade  around, 
Brother  Wigglesworth.  You  will  observe,  by  care- 
ful analysis,  that  you  have  it  pointing  in  an  opposite 
direction,  utterly  inconsistent  with  adequate  ease  of 
manipulation." 

Mr.  Wigglesworth,  acting  on  this  suggestion,  re- 
hung  the  blade  on  the  handle,  and  assuming  an  at- 
titude that  he  recalled  from  his  boyhood,  gave  the 
scythe  a  jaunty  swing  and  snipped  off  the  top  of  his 
wife's  favorite  weigelia  (  W.  Variegala.) 

"  You  should  point  the  blade  a  little  lower,"  sug- 
gested the  minister,  who  was  leaning  over  the  fence. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  brought  back  the  scythe  and 
gave  a  mighty  stroke  that  buried  the  point  into  the 
ground  and  nearly  poked  out  two  of  his  floating  ribs 
with  the  handle. 

"  Wow ! "  he  yelled,  dropping  the  scythe  and  tak- 
ing his  bruised  ribs  into  an  affectionate  grasp ;  "oh, 
I  've  smashed  my  whole  side  in  1  I  've  splintered  every 
rib  in  my  body !  " 


Ho*w  Wigglesworth 


After  Mr.  Wiggles  worth  had  limped  about  the 
yard  for  some  moments  he  felt  his  anger  mounting. 

"Gimme  that  scythe!"  he  said  in  a  condensed 
voice,  and  there  was  a  wild  gleam  in  his  eye  that 
made  the  minister  shudder,  while  Mrs.  Wigglesworth, 
looking  on  from  the  parlor  window,  held  her  breath 
for  several  minutes  without  noticing  it. 

It  is  remarkable  how  many  things  a  man  used  to 
know  when  a  boy  that  have  now  slipped  his  recollec- 
tion, or  become  sadly  altered  by  the  lapse  of  time. 
Mr.  Wigglesworth,  as  he  lunged  into  the  grass, 
thought  of  this.  A  man  can  think  of  a  vast  number 
of  things  while  a  scythe,  missing  its  aim,  is  engaged 
in  swinging  him  twice  around  without  halting.  So 
instantaneous  is  thought. 

"  That 's  it  ?  "  cried  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  recovering 
his  poise  and  aiming  another  blow  at  the  atmosphere, 
"  that 's  the  way  to  mow  1  That 's  the  way  to  make 
hay  while  the  sun  shines,"  he  shouted,  clawing  the 
scythe  loose  from  a  flower-bed  and  raking  a  whole 
battalion  of  Sweet  Williams  (Dtanthus  barbatus)  off 
at  the  ankles ;  "  Wigglesworth,  the  patent  mowing 
machine  with  gilt  spokes  in  the  wheels ! "  and  he 
dug  the  point  into  a  line  fence  and  split  an  inch  board 
with  it ;  "  fields  mowed  to  order  and  satisfaction 
guaranteed  or  hay  refunded  1 "  he  yelled,  pulling  the 
scythe  out  and  neatly  felling  a  young  green  ash  tree 
(F.  juglandiflora)  that  he  had  been  nursing  with 
great  'assiduity.  "I'm  the  great  North  American 
hayist  1 "  he  shrieked,  purple  in  the  face ;  "  baled  hay 

152 


Mo<wed  the  Laewn 


constantly  on  hand  or  sent  postpaid  on  receipt  of 
price  1 " — and  then  the  scythe,  mercifully  catching  it- 
self on  the  limb  of  a  rock  maple  (A.  saccharinum) 
tore  itself  from  his  benumbed  hands,  and  after  deal- 
ing him  a  blow  on  the  head  with  its  handle  that  raised 
an  entirely  new  kind  of  phrenological  organ,  passed 
out  into  the  street  and  came  near  to  decapitating  a 
poor  but  freckled  boy  who  was  the  only  support  of 
his  widowed  mother  and  eleven  small  children. 

As  the  minister  gently  took  him  by  the  hand  and 
led  him  toward  the  house,  Mr.  Wigglesworth  shook 
his  fist  at  his  wife  through  the  window. 

"  I'll  have  a  divorce  for  this  !  "  he  shouted,  laying 
a  blistered  hand  to  his  poor,  aching  head. 

But  under  the  soothing  influence  of  the  minister 
softer  sentiments  prevailed,  and  instead  he  got  an  axe 
and  chopped  at  the  scythe  till  its  own  maker  would  n't 
have  recognized  it. 


133 


Chapter  XIV 

Hoew  Wigglesworth 
Rode  a  Bicycle 


Hold  her  up  there  I '  he  cried."— Pagt  739. 


CHAPTER  XIV.  —  How    Wigglesworth    Rode 
a  Bicycle 

AT  frequent  intervals  during  supper  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  would  stay  the  motion 
of  his  jaws,  and  incline  a  listening  ear 
toward  the  back  door.  The  look  of 
mysterious  importance  that  enveloped  his  counte- 
nance cast  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  into  a  flutter  of  spirits, 
and  when  at  last  her  husband  broke  for  the  door,  she 
followed  him,  thinking  with  a  little  tremor  of  delight, 
that  he  had  a  surprise  for  her.  And  so  he  had. 

The  expressman  was  just  going  away,  leaving  a 
glistening  bicycle,  which  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  was  walking  around  admiringly. 

"  O-o-h-h-h  1 "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  clap- 
ping her  hands,  "  is  it  for  me  ?  " 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  threw  upon  her  a  look  of 
hauteur. 

"  But  who  can  it  be  for  ? "  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
wondered,  seeing  that  the  card  hadn't  turned  up  to 
her. 

"  Why,  who  'd  ye  s  'pose  ?  "  retorted  her  husband, 
rubbing  his  fingers  over  the  shiny  handles  ;  "  think  I 
got  it  for  the  hired  girl,  don't  ye)  What's  the  matter 
with  my  giving  it  to  the  minister,  so  he  can  waltz  up 
and  down  the  aisle  and  take  his  own  collections? 
Don't  s'pose  it  could  occur  to  ye  that  Wigglesworth 
wanted  it  for  himself  ?  " 


Ho<w  Wtggtesworth 


"  Why  —  I  didn't  "  —  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  stam- 
mered. 

"  Oh,  of  course  not,"  her  husband  snorted ;  "  I 
might  go  around  all  summer  with  my  liver  hanging 
over  on  one  side,  and  you'd  never  mention  it.  Don't 
ye  s'pose  I  like  to  have  as  many  lungs  as  anybody  ? 
Think  I'm  going  to  have  my  whole  system  clog  up 
and  burst,  like  a  dam  ?  " 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  gave  a  scream. 

"  Ellery  Wigglesworth,"  she  said  sternly,  "you 
ought  to  be  ashamed  to  use  such  language  right  here 
on  your  own  back  porch  I  " 

A  short  time  later  the  woman  next  door,  going  out 
to  shake  a  tablecloth,  saw  such  things  coming  to  pass 
over  in  the  Wigglesworth  driveway  as  put  all  thoughts 
of  tablecloths  out  of  mind.  It  is  to  this  neighborly 
lady  that  the  ladies'  afternoon  whist  conversazione 
became  indebted  for  the  clearest  account  of  the  per- 
formance that  has  yet  been  made  public. 

"  What  ails  ye  ?  "  Mr.  Wigglesworth  was  yelling  to 
Imogene,  "can't  ye  walk  along  here  ten  seconds 
without  putting  your  foreign  feet  under  the  wheels  ? 
Who  asked  you  to  trig  the  thing  ? " 

Mr.  Wigglesworth,  his  coat  off  and  his  long  hair 
disarranged  from  his  bald  top,  sat  on  the  little  leather 
saddle,  his  hands  deathlessly  gripping  the  polished 
handles  and  his  body  bent  forward  at  the  most  pain- 
ful angle  known  to  geometry.  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
and  Imogene,  on  either  side  of  the  machine,  spent 
their  strength  in  keeping  it  erect,  while  Mr.  Wiggles- 

138 


Rode  a  Bicycle 

worth  felt  around  in  the  air  with  his  feet  for  the 
pedals  and  then  when  he  found  one,  pushed  at  it 
savagely,  while  his  foot  and  his  temper  slipped  off, 
the  former  tearing  a  hole  in  Imogene's  apron  and 
the  latter  in  the  shape  of  a  remark  curling  and  crisp- 
ing the  young  leaves  on  the  trees. 

"  Hold  her  up  there ! "  he  cried,  as  the  world 
fetched  a  heavy  list  to  starboard  and  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  tottered  and  was  like  to  go  down.  "  What 's 
the  matter,"  he  puffed,  making  some  more  aimless 
circles  with  his  left  foot ;  "  can't  ye  boost  up  one  side 
of  a  simple  thing  like  this  ? " 

"  It's  —  awfully  heavy,"  gasped  his  wife,  with  her 
tongue  between  her  teeth. 

"  Heavy  1 "  bullied  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  in  as  loud  a 
voice  as  the  machine  would  permit,  "  course  it's 
heavy.  That's  what  I've  been  telling  ye  all  winter. 
Doctor  says  'f  I  don't  get  exercise  'm  liable  to  get 
fatty  degeneration  and  —  and  degenerate.  Don't  do 
that  1 "  he  shouted,  as  the  weight  suddenly  shifted  to 
Imogene,  buckling  that  red-faced  young  lady  into  a 
S  ;  "  ain't  ye  got  sense  enough  to  hold  her  even  ? 
Them  sudden  jerks  is  what  snaps  my  neck  so.  What 
ye  doing  that  for?"  he  yelled  as  Imogene,  stimulated 
by  his  cries,  straightened  out  of  the  letter  S  and  im- 
parted a  wobbling  motion  to  the  procession  that  al- 
most flung  Mr.  Wigglesworth  over  the  fence ;  "  think 
you're  washing  our  best  dishes,  don't  ye  ?  Don't  act 
so  strong." 

Then  the  celebration  moved  painfully  onward,  the 


H&W  Wiggtesworth 


heavy  topped  machine  penduluming  from  Mrs.  Wig- 
glesworth  to  Imogene  and  back  again,  while  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  put  his  eyes  still  further  out  of  his 
head  and  scarred  his  shins  on  the  eccentric  pedals, 
and  muttered  things  that  were  not  clearly  intelligible 
to  the  woman  next  door,  the  wind  being  unfavorable, 
though  she  listened  carefully. 

So  came  they  at  last  to  the  place  where  the  drive- 
way makes  a  turn  into  the  stable.  Either  you  make 
the  turn  at  the  same  time  the  driveway  does,  or  you 
keep  on  down  a  little  hill  into  the  clothes-dryer. 

"Turn  the  thing  round?"  shouted  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  catching  a  momentary  glimpse  of  the  situa- 
tion ;  "  steer  her  round,  can't  ye  ?  Want  to  poke  me 
into  the  ocean  ? " 

"You  —  you  ought  to  be  doing  the  steering?"  his 
wife  answered,  with  the  suggestion  of  a  sob  in  her 
overworked  system. 

"  So  I  am,"  screamed  the  wretched  Wigglesworth,  a 
fear  of  disaster  clutching  at  his  heart, "  but  the  blamed 
old  thing  won't  twist.  Push  —  Why  don't  ye  push  1 " 

That's  what  they  were  doing,  to  their  utmost,  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth  one  way  and  Imogene  the  other,  so 
that  the  machine,  tossed  in  the  storm  that  these  con- 
flicting passions  aroused,  raged  back  and  forth  and 
then  passed  off  the  graveled  way  and  took  a  hasty 
course  toward  Europe.  All  the  horrors  of  the  situa- 
tion loomed  swiftly  to  the  goggling  eyes  of  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth. 

"  Hold  her  —  hold  her  back !  "  he  shrieked,  tearing 

140 


Rode  a  Bicycle 

madly  at  the  handles  and  waving  his  legs  about  in* 
the  atmosphere. 

The  women  strove  to  do  this,  with  their  utmost, 
but  that  were  small  matter  now  that  the  machine, 
tearing  itself  from  their  grasp  and  kicking  up  its  hind 
wheel  in  an  excess  of  youthful  spirits,  realized  what 
an  opportunity  was  afforded  it.  Down  the  steep  bank 
it  charged,  Mr.  Wigglesworth  still  knit  to  its  handles 
and  looking,  the  woman  next  door  said,  like  an  al- 
legory of  something  that  in  the  confusion  of  the 
moment  she  could  n't  recall  the  name  of,  but  which 
could  be  easily  ascertained  by  referring  to  the  rear 
end  of  the  dictionary,  and  then,  obeying  at  last,  the 
wild  plucking  at  its  handles,  swerving  just  enough  to 
accompany  its  daring  rider  into  the  thickest  ranks  of 
the  dryer  full  of  clothes.  There  was  a  shrill  scream 
from  the  women  on  the  bank  and  a  hoarse  roar  from 
the  whirling  Wigglesworth,  and  in  another  moment  he 
had  shot  out  on  the  opposite  side,  both  wheels  of  the 
machine  curled  about  his  legs  like  a  wire  puzzle,  and 
hanging  from  his  neck  a  red  and  yellow  calico  gown 
that  belonged  to  Imogene. 

"That's  what  comes  of  being  a  home-made  fool!" 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  screamed  as  they  untwisted  his 
legs  from  the  wire  spokes  ;  "  that's  what  I  get  for 
trying  to  follow  your  idiotic  advice  to  take  some  ex- 
ercise. Who  put  this  thing  round  my  neck?"  he 
yelled  still  louder,  twitching  at  the  calico  gown; 
"git  it  off  —  git  it  off,  d'ye  hear?  and  give  that 
hired  girl  notice !  This  is  the  third  time  she's  tried 
to  take  my  life,  and  I  tell  ye  she's  dangerous  I " 

141 


Chapter  XV 


Hoew 

Caught  the 
Burglar 


"  'See  anything,'  he  whispered."  —  Page  147. 


~1|      *\ 
M    J 
i  j 


CHAPTER  XV.—  How   Wigglesworth  Caught 
the  Burglar 

LLERY  1  "  hoarsely  whispered  Mrs.  Wig- 
glesworth. 

"  Ellery  1  "  she  repeated,  shaking  him 
by  the  shoulder. 

"  Whatyewan  ?  "  muttered  Mr.  Wigglesworth  in  one 
word.  Then  he  pushed  his  head  further  into  the 
pillow  and  trilled  a  little  snore. 

"  Ellery  Wigglesworth  !  "  exclaimed  his  wife,  using 
a  never-failing  elbow,  "  do  you  want  to  lie  there  asleep 
and  see  us  both  murdered  in  our  own  house  ?  I  tell 
you  I  hear  somebody  down  stairs  !  " 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  came  bolt  upright  in  an  instant. 

"  Sh  !  "  he  hissed  loudly.  "  Don't  ye  know  any 
better  than  to  stick  a  sharp  elbow  into  my  back  and 
make  me  yell  ?  He  might  have  heard  me  I  " 

"Who  might?"  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  wailed.  "Oh, 
Ellery,  you  don't  mean  to  tell  me  there's  a  burglar  in 
the  house  ?  " 

"  I  tell  ye  ?  "  echoed  Mr.  Wigglesworth  wrathfully  ; 
"  didn't  you  wake  me  up  and  say  there  was  ?  Don't  ye 
go  laying  the  blame  on  my  shoulders." 

There  was  something  blood-chilling  in  this  whis- 
pered conversation,  carried  on  under  cover  of  the 
darkness,  with  ears  strained  to  catch  some  sound  and 
every  nerve  wrought  to  highest  tension.  Then  time, 
which  for  a  season  had  seemed  to  stand  still,  re- 
sumed its  onward  flight. 

145 


H<yw  Wigglesworth 


"  I  guess  it  wasn't  anything,"  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
concluded. 

"Dry  up,  can't  yel"  commanded  her  husband; 
"  what 's  the  use  bellering  round  so  till  ye  find  out  ? 
Want  to  see  me  shot  down  defending  my  own  house, 
don't  ye?" 

"  Hark  1 "  interrupted  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  straining 
her  eyes  into  the  blackness.  "  I  know  I  heard  some- 
thing then.  Oh,  do  get  up,  Ellery,  and  go  see." 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  blew  a  loud  blast  through  his 
nostrils. 

"What  ye  want?"  he  whispered  savagely,  glaring 
at  his  wife  through  the  gloom ;  "  think  I  'm  going 
out  there  and  have  my  lungs  cut  open  with  a  knife  ? 
Reckon  I  'm  Napoleon  at  the  bridge  of  Arcola, 
don't  ye?" 

There  could  be  no  disguising  the  fact  that  some- 
body was  moving  stealthily  about  in  the  lower 
part  of  the  house.  The  noises  were  muffled,  with 
now  and  then  a  subdued  clinking  sound. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  got  cautiously  out  of  bed,  made 
two  faltering  steps  and  put  his  feet  on  his  wife's 
slippers.  No  married  man  ever  got  out  of  bed  and 
took  a  step  in  the  dark  with  any  other  result. 

"  There  they  are  again ! "  he  howled  as  loudly  as 
he  dared,  kicking  the  slippers  viciously. 

"  Don't  let  them  stab  you  I "  cried  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth,  hysterically,  putting  her  head  under  the  quilt. 

But  her  husband's  mutterings  as  he  stumbled 
about  the  room  brought  her  forth  again. 

146 


Caught  the  Burglar 


"  Do  hurry  up  and  light  the  lamp,"  she  pleaded. 

"  That 's  it,"  returned  Mr.  Wigglesworth.  "  You 
know  the  thing  to  do  in  an  emergency.  Want  to 
illuminate,  don't  ye,  so  anybody  can  shoot  through 
the  keyhole  and  break  the  looking-glass." 

In  the  closet  was  a  heavy  cane,  which  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth  succeeded  in  laying  hold  of.  With  that  his 
spirits  mounted  a  little. 

"  Why  don't  ye  come  out  of  that  bed  ? "  he  directed ; 
"  think  they  're  after  you  ? " 

"Don't  do  anything  rash,  I  beg  of  you,  Ellery," 
said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  agitatedly,  as  she  found  a 
skirt  and  put  it  over  her  shoulders. 

"  You  go  ahead  there  and  open  the  door,"  said  Mr. 
Wigglesworth,  "  and  if  any  of  'em  show  their  heads 
I  '11  take  and  knock  a  hole  in  'em  !  " 

"I  —  I  don't  dare !  "  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  whimpered. 

"What's  the  use  to  be  a  snivelling  coward?" 
argued  her  husband.  "  Ain  't  I  here  to  protect  ye?" 

"You — you  go  ahead,"  suggested  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth. 

"  What  kind  of  a  way  would  that  be  ? "  blustered 
her  husband.  "  S  'pose  they  'd  jab  a  hatchet  into  me 
first  thing,  what  would  become  of  you,  I'd  like  to 
know?" 

Stimulated  by  these  encouraging  arguments,  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth  softly  turned  the  knob  and  stole  into 
the  hall.  Mr.  Wigglesworth  peered  through  the  door 
and  watched  her  dimly  moving  toward  the  stairway. 

"See  anything?"  he  whispered. 


How  Wiggleseworth 


"There's  a  light  in  the  pantry,"  returned  his  wife, 
her  teeth  chattering. 

"  Go  down  the  stairs,"  advised  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
partially  closing  the  door. 

It  is  a  dreadful  thing  to  be  left  alone  in  your  room, 
the  darkness  intense,  with  creepy  sensations  going  up 
your  back,  and  only  one  poor  cane  between  you  and 
death  —  death  at  the  desperate  hand  of  a  burglar. 
The  weight  of  the  situation  pressed  cruelly  upon  Mr. 
Wigglesworth.  Would  his  wife  never  come  back? 
He  cautiously  opened  the  door.  Had  she  in  a  sud- 
den accession  of  feminine  courage  gone  down  the 
stairs  and  been  chloroformed  —  perhaps  been ? 

Mr.  Wigglesworth 's  heart  turned  over,  and  his  hair 
made  a  sudden  gesture  as  though  it  would  stand  on 
end.  Slowly  and  fearfully  he  also  stole  down  the 
stairs. 

"  I  must  know  the  worst,"  he  muttered  hoarsely, 
with  an  in-catching  of  his  breath. 

If  he  could  make  the  back  hall  it  would  be  pos- 
sible to  investigate  the  pantry,  whence  a  light  shone 
dimly,  and  also  escape  out  of  doors  if  need  were. 
Silently  Mr.  Wigglesworth  accomplished  this  feat, 
and  then  a  figure  came  darkly  through  the  other  door 
and  collided  with  him. 

Night  workmen  going  early  home  from  their  toil 
heard  the  yell  that  Mr.  Wigglesworth  let  loose  as  he 
grappled  with  the  figure,  which  likewise  sent  forth  a 
companion  shriek.  There  was  for  an  instant  a  dread- 
ful scuffle,  then  a  crash,  and  Mr.  Wigglesworth  was 

148 


Caught  the  Burglar 


down  on  the  floor,  lashing  out  with  the  cane  and  bawl- 
ing ceaselessly.  Then  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  ran  in 
with  a  light. 

"  Wow ! "  screamed  Mr.  Wigglesworth ;  "  where's 
he  gone?" 

"  Where 's  who  gone  ?  "  cried  Mrs.  Wigglesworth. 

"The  burglar  —  there's  half  a  dozen  of  'em!" 
howled  Mr.  Wigglesworth.  "  I  tackled  'em  all  single- 
handed.  I  'm  wallowing  in  blood ! " 

"  No  you  ain't ! "  earnestly  protested  his  wife,  hold- 
ing the  light  nearer  ;  "  that 's  my  new  tomato  pickle. 
You  're  covered  with  it ! " 

Which  was  true. 

"You  see,"  continued  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  in  ex- 
planation and  pattering  on  behind  as  her  husbarid 
stalked  savagely  up  stairs,  "  Imogene's  tooth  ached  so 
bad  she  could  n't  sleep,  so  she  thought  she  would  get 
up  and  put  away  the  pickles  I  worked  all  day  bottling, 
and  she  was  scared  enough  when  I  came  in  on  her  — 
but  the  funniest  thing,  Ellery,  was  when  she  ran  into 
you,  with  the  last  bottle  in  her  hand,  and  you  both 
were  scared,  and  the  bottle  broke  and  you  thought  it 
was  blood,  and  oh,  Ellery  —  tee-he-he-he" 

"  Tee-he-he-he  1"  mimicked  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  as 
he  threw  himself  into  bed  ;  "why  don't  you  act  like  a 
gash-flummuxed  fool  and  be  done  with  it  ?  " 


149 


Chapter  XVI 


Wiggles<worth 
Showed  Them 
Secrets  of  Haying 


"  '  Ketch  hold  of  her,'  screamed  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  sawing 
wildly  at  the  reins."  —  Page  757. 


CHAPTER  XVI.— How  Wigglesworth  Showed 
them  Secrets  of  Haying 

SWEET  blew  the  scents  from  the  hayfield, 
and  the  sharp  click  of  the  horse  mowers 
made  music  that  filled  the  air  and  im- 
parted a  pleasant  stir  to  the  unusually 
quiet  country. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  up  from  town  for  a 
week's  outing  at  Uncle  Chesterfield's,  stood  on  the 
kitchen  verandah  and  admired  the  scene. 

"How  poetic  it  is,"  gushed  Mrs.  Wigglesworth, 
pressing  her  hands  together  in  an  ecstacy.  "  Don't 
you  think  it  is  delightfully  pastoral,  Ellery,  and  —  and 
— all  that  —  you  know  ? " 

"T  ain't  half  bad,"  acknowledged  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  with  an  approving  nod.  "  I  'd  like  to  get  at 
one  of  them  mowing  machines,  he  added,  shifting  his 
feet ;  "  I  'd  show  'em  how  to  rip  down  an  acre  of 
grass.  They're  altogether  too  slow,  these  country 
ducks.  What  they  need  is  a  little  of  our  city  snap." 

Over  in  an  adjacent  lot  Uncle  Chesterfield,  the  sun 
smiting  at  his  leathery  countenance,  soberly  guided 
the  mower  into  the  upright  ranks  of  grass,  while  the 
hired  man,  with  a  fiery  face  out  of  all  character  with 
his  deliberate  gestures,  amused  himself  with  a  rake 
that  he  now  and  then  combed  through  the  fallen 
grass  with  a  slow  and  dignified  manner. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  stepped  off  the  verandah. 


Hcnv  Wiggle&worth 


"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  asked  his  wife. 

"  I  'm  going  over  and  take  a  hand  in  that  hay- 
making," replied  Mr.  Wigglesworth.  "They  won't 
get  it  done  this  summer  at  that  rate." 

"I  wouldn't  interfere  if  I  were  you,"  advised  his 
wife. 

"  Oh,  of  course  not,"  sneered  Mr.  Wigglesworth ; 
"you  'd  have  me  set  up  here  with  my  feet  in  my  lap 
all  summer,  drinking  buttermilk  out  of  a  dipper. 
That 's  the  kind  of  a  vacation  you  'd  get  up.  Mrs 
Wigglesworth's  fresh  air  fund,  for  sending  people 
away  from  the  city  so  they  can't  have  any  pleasure. 
That 's  your  way." 

"It's  all  so  new,  you  know,"  murmured  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth. 

"New?"  sniffed  her  husband,  turning  on  her 
fiercely,  "who  said  it  was  new?  Wasn't  I  brought 
up  on  a  farm,  I  'd  like  to  know  ?  Have  n't  I  made 
more  hay  than  a  steam  engine  could  haul  ?  " 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  followed  her  husband  across 
to  the  hay  field,  shaking  her  head  dubiously. 

"  Hullo  1 "  called  Mr.  Wigglesworth  as  he  climbed 
the  fence. 

Uncle  Chesterfield  pulled  up  his  horses  and  the 
hired  man  seized  the  opportunity  to  transfer  his 
weight  to  the  other  foot. 

"Howdy  do?"  said  Uncle  Chesterfield,  good- 
naturedly. 

"Getting  on  kinder  slow,  ain't  ye?"  asked  Mr. 
Wigglesworth 

154 


Sh&wed  them  Secrets  of  Haying 

"  Doin'  perty  well,  I  reckon,"  replied  Uncle  Ches- 
terfield, wiping  his  face. 

"  We  used  to  rush  things  faster  when  I  was  a  boy," 
said  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  "and  we  didn't  have  any 
machines  either.  '  F  ye  don't  mind  I  '11  take  hold  a 
bit  and  show  ye  how  we  used  to  push  things  along." 

"Why,  cert'nly  —  cert'nly,"  assented  Uncle  Ches- 
terfield cordially.  "Take  right  holt.  Glad  to  hev 
ye." 

At  that  moment  a  hay  tedder,  attached  to  a  tall, 
bony  horse,  was  driven  into  the  field  by  a  boy  whose 
face  had  begun  to  freckle  quite  early  in  life  and  grad- 
ually increased  in  efficiency.  Mr.  Wigglesworth  flung 
off  his  coat. 

"Drive  around  this  way!"  he  called  to  the  boy 
with  the  home-made  freckles. 

The  tedder  was  a  machine  hung  between  two  wheels 
with  a  seat  for  the  driver  above.  It  was  fraught 
with  a  number  of  wooden  legs  caught  to  some  sort  of 
gearing  which,  with  the  revolution  of  the  wheels, 
kicked  the  legs  out  behind  with  a  grasshopperlike 
action,  flinging  the  prostrate  hay  about  in  all  direc- 
tions and  opening  it  to  the  curing  processes  of  the 
sun.  Mr.  Wigglesworth  climbed  into  the  seat  and 
took  the  reins. 

"  Whoa ! "  he  said,  yanking  at  the  reins  to  indicate 
to  the  bony  horse  that"  Wiggles  worth  was  now  in 
command,  whereat  the  bony  horse,  uttering  a  loud 
snort,  stood  up  on  his  two  after  feet  and  nearly  brained 
the  hired  man  with  the  others. 


Wiggles<worth 


"What  ye  trying  to  do?"  cried  the  hired  man, 
startled  into  unwonted  action. 

"  Whoa  —  stand  still  1 "  shouted  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
as  the  bony  horse  exhibited  an  inclination  to  put  his 
hind  feet  into  Mr.  Wigglesworth 's  lungs.  "  Get  hold 
of  his  head,  there,  can't  ye?"  he  yelled  to  the  hired 
man ; "  what  ye  want  to  stand  around  there  for  like  a  fool, 
brandishing  that  pitchfork  ?  No  wonder  he's  scared." 

With  the  exercise  of  some  blandishments  on  the 
part  of  the  hired  man  and  the  boy  with  the  instanta- 
neous freckles  the  bony  horse  was  quieted  and  the 
performance  went  on. 

There  was  something  exhilarating  in  the  exercise. 
The  tedder  rolled  smoothly  over  the  clear-reaped 
ground,  kicking  out  with  a  spasmodic  action,  and 
filling  the  air  full  of  the  odoriferous  hay.  Turning 
the  corner  at  the  far  end  of  the  field  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth  waved  his  hat  to  his  wife  who  was  watching 
him  from  the  distant  fence  top. 

"  Wonder  what  she  thinks  of  this ! "  he  said  to 
himself  complacently,  and  he  flung  out  his  chest  in 
an  excess  of  pride. 

"  Get  up,  there  1 "  he  remarked  prodding  the  bony 
horse  with  his  pointed  shoe. 

Everybody  knows  that  it  is  a  mistake  to  hitch 
Pegasus  to  the  plow,  the  operation  usually  resulting 
in  dimming  the  ambition  of  Pegasus,  but  with  the 
bony  horse  it  was  different.  He  had  never  been 
prodded  behind  before  with  a  five  dollar  shoe,  and  his 
haughty  nature  resented  it. 

156 


Showed  them  Secrets  of  Haying 

Looking  up  from  his  reverie  the  hired  man  was 
startled  to  see  the  bony  horse  tearing  across  the 
sward  and  the  hay  tedder  gesticulating  with  the 
rapidity  of  an  elocutionist.  With  the  exercise  of  re- 
markable agility  the  hired  man  took  one  step  and  the 
flying  tedder  missed  him  by  a  hair. 

"Ketch  hold  of  her!"  screamed  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  sawing  madly  at  the  reins. 

His  hat  was  gone,  his  whiskers  floated  behind  him 
with  a  loud,  purring  noise  and  his  eyes,  strained  from 
their  orbits  with  the  energy  of  his  manner,  looked 
stonily  ahead  with  an  expression  that  foretold  disaster. 
The  hired  man  noted  this  and  shuddered. 

"Stop  sawin'  on  the  reins!"  roared  Uncle  Chester- 
field, as  the  procession  went  past  the  judge's  stand, 
but  Mr.  Wigglesworth  was  instantly  hull  down  on  the 
horizon  and  the  advice  went  out  in  air. 

Round  the  field  tore  the  bony  horse,  the  legs  of 
the  tedder  twinkling  hi  the  summer  sun,  filling  the 
heavens  with  flying  grass  and  the  freckled  face  of  the 
boy  with  wonder. 

"Why  don't  ye  do  something?"  shrieked  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  to  the  hired  man  as  they  once  more 
came  down  the  home  stretch  together,  the  bony  horse 
leading  and  Mr.  Wigglesworth  a  close  second ;  "get 
an  axe,  can't  ye,  and  jab  into  her?"  but  the  hired 
man  was  already  far  behind  and  Mr.  Wigglesworth's 
shriek  spent  itself  in  the  neighboring  county. 

The  momentary  paralysis  that  had  enveloped  the 
joints  and  muscles  of  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  now  sud- 


H&w  Wigglesworth 


denly  released  its  hold.  With  horror  clutching  at  her 
heart  she  had  noted  the  wild  bolting  of  the  bony 
horse  and  the  deadly  peril  that  instantly  enveloped 
her  beloved  Ellery.  Just  as  quickly  as  she  could  do 
so  she  got  down  from  the  fence  and  tottered  over  the 
stubble. 

Somewhere  she  had  read  that  a  wild  animal,  startled 
by  something  unexpected,  can  be  shocked  into 
docility.  Filled  with  this  great  thought  Mrs.  Wig- 
glesworth,  uttering  a  shrill  scream,  rushed  fearlessly 
in  front  of  the  flying  horse  and  suddenly  opened  her 
red  parasol. 

"  Shoo  I "  screamed  Mrs.  Wigglesworth. 

The  effect  on  the  bony  horse  was  electrical. 
There  was  no  doubt  of  that.  Standing  up  on  his 
hind  legs  with  great  suddenness  he  gave  utterance  to 
a  half  human  scream  and  executed  a  dance  movement 
with  incredible  swiftness.  With  an  auxiliary  gesture 
he  then  smashed  in  the  straw  hat  of  the  hired  man 
before  that  deliberate  gentleman  could  get  his  head 
out  from  under  it. 

The  hay  tedder  made  a  remarkable  exhibition  as  it 
followed  the  bony  horse  across  the  meadows,  its 
eccentric  legs  prodding  the  air  with  a  swiftness  that 
never  had  been  equalled.  It  would  have  been  a  sight 
to  fascinate  one  had  not  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  suddenly 
discovered  that  the  driver's  seat  was  empty. 

"  Oh,  where  is  Ellery  ? "  she  screamed,  wildly 
brandishing  the  red  umbrella. 

And  they  discovered  afterwards  that  the  tedder 
158 


Showed  them  Secrets  of  Haying 

had  him,  holding  him  down  with  one  leg  and  kicking 
him  at  rapid  intervals  with  all  the  others. 

"  I  hope  you  're  satisfied,  now,"  he  hissed  as  they 
got  him  into  bed  with  what  tenderness  they  were 
capable  of ;  "  get  me  to  make  a  fool  of  myself  in  the 
hay  field  just  to  amuse  you,  and  then  you  rush  out 
and  try  to  take  my  life  with  that  gash-flummuxed  old 
red  umbrella.  You  're  a  darling  wife,  you  are  1 " 

But,  really,  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  said  afterwards  to 
the  minister's  wife,  she  was  so  glad  that  none  of  his 
legs  were  broken  that  she  didn't  care  much  what 
Ellery  said  to  her. 

And  neither  did  he. 


159 


Chapter  XVII 

How  Wigglesworth 
Enjoyed  the 
Eclipse 


"'Oh,  yes,'   cried  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  glaring  across  the 
table,  '  that's  it.'  "  —  Page  163. 


CHAPTER  XVII.— How    Wigglesworth   En- 
joyed the  Eclipse 

MRS.  Wetherbee  was  in,  this  afternoon," 
said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  at  supper. 
"Well,"    growled    her     husband, 
who  had  had  an  uncomfortable  day 
at  the  coal  office,  "  what  did  she  want  to  borrow  ? " 

"She  said,"  rejoined  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  unheed- 
ing the  sarcasm,  "that  there  was  going  to  be  an 
eclipse  of  the  moon  tonight"  — 

"Yah?"  broke  in  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  "don't  she 
s'pose  I  know  that  ?  Think  I  've  got  to  have  every 
fat  woman  in  town  with  a  mole  on  her  chin  running 
round  to  tell  me  things  like  them  ?  I  saw  more  than 
a  hundred  eclipses  'fore  old  Wetherbee  and  his  wife 
were  born." 

"  She  came  to  ask  us,"  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  resumed 
when  her  husband's  mouth  was  filled  with  toast,  "if 
we  didn't  want  to  come  over  to  their  house  and 
watch  it?" 

"  Watch  what  —  the  house  ? " 

"No,  the  eclipse.  You  know,  they  have  a  large 
telescope,  and  she  thought  —  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  cried  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  glaring  across 
the  table,  "that's  it.  Ever  since  them  Wetherbees 
had  a  little  money  left  'em  they  put  on  airs  till  they 
make  me  sick.  Think  they  're  the  only  ones  who  are 
going  to  have  an  eclipse,  don't  they?  Wetherbee's 

163 


How    Wiggles(worth 


special  line  of  eclipses.  Don't  take  any  eclipses 
until  you've  seen  Wetherbee's.  Patronize  Weth- 
erbee ;  his  eclipses  are  out  of  sight.  I  hate  such 
stuck-up  people.  What  I  can't  seem  to  understand," 
he  snarled  in  conclusion,  and  with  sudden  change  of 
front,  "  is  how  that  hired  girl  of  yours  always  man- 
ages to  give  us  such  a  stone-cold  cup  of  tea  with  the 
same  fire  that  she  burns  the  toast  up  with ! " 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  divined  by  this  time  that  it  had 
been  a  poor  day  for  business,  so  she  said  nothing 
further,  while  her  husband  went  out  to  nail  a  picket 
on  the  fence,  and  in  the  gathering  twilight  contrived 
to  strike  a  nail  with  every  blow  of  the  hammer. 

"Ain't  ye  ready  yet?"  he  shouted  as  he  rattled 
into  the  house,  by  and  by,  nursing  his  thumb. 

"  Ready  for  what  ?  "  asked  his  wife  in  a  mild  voice 
as  she  got  him  the  arnica. 

"Ready  for  what?"  snapped  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
taking  his  thumb  out  of  his  mouth  so  as  to  give  his 
voice  free  sway,  "why,  for  the  eclipse,  of  course. 
Didn't  ye  say  the  Wetherbees  wanted  us  to  come 
over  there?  What  ye  trying  to  act  out,  anyway? 
Don't  ye  know  what  common  politeness  is  when  folks 
give  ye  an  invitation  ? " 

Somewhat  dizzy  with  the  powerful  veerings  of  her 
husband's  mental  compass  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  hurried 
on  her  wrap. 

"So  glad  to  see  you!"  cooed  Mrs.  Wetherbee, 
shaking  hands. 

"Yes  —  step  right  up  on  the  verandah,"  Mr. 
164 


Enjoyed  the  Eclipse 


Wetherbee  said,  pulling  forward  some  uncomfortable 
summer  chairs. 

"Nice  night,"  said  Mr.  Wigglesworth  wiping  his 
forehead. 

"  Yes,  I  was  saying  to  Ellery  on  the  way  over," 
chirped  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  "that  I  thought  it  one 
of  the  nicest  nights  for  an  eclipse  that  I  ever  saw, 
especially  of  the  moon.  Do  you  know  if  it  is  to  be 
a  —  total  eclipse,  Mr.  Wetherbee?" 

"  The  whole  box  and  dice,"  asserted  Mr.  Wetherbee. 

"  How  perfectly  lovely,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  ;  "  these  —  er  —  partial  eclipses  are  so  sort  of 
unsatisfying,  and  all  that,  don't  you  think,  Mrs. 
Wetherbee  ? " 

"Step  up  on  the  roof  and  have  a  look  at  the 
telescope,"  suggested  their  host. 

"  Cost  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,"  he  explained, 
as  they  stood  about  the  long  brass  cylinder,  and  felt 
of  the  glass  with  their  moist  hands.  "  It 's  a  dandy, 
so  the  man  said  I  got  it  of." 

"  Does  it  make  things  seem  awfully  near  to  ? "  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth  asked. 

"What's  the  use  to  ask  such  numb  questions  as 
that?"  muttered  her  husband,  who  hadn't  found 
opportunity  to  put  in  a  word  all  the  evening ;  "  think 
they  got  it  to  conceal  bank  defalcations,  don't  ye? " 

It  wanting  an  hour  of  the  advertised  time  of  the 
eclipse,  Mr.  Wetherbee  suggested  that  they  go  below 
and  have  a  cigar,  and  while  he  entertained  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth with  a  long  and  circumstantial  account  of 

165 


H&w  Wiggles<worth 


an  operation  in  stocks,  wherein  the  Wetherbee 
shrewdness  was  admirably  set  forth  by  the  lips  of 
Wetherbee,  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  gave,  for  the  benefit 
of  Mrs.  Wetherbee,  a  full  and  unabridged  description 
of  the  difficulty  which  Willie,  when  a  baby,  had  ex- 
perienced in  cutting  his  own  teeth  himself  for  the  first 
time.  Then  when  the  hour  had  flown  sufficiently 
they  returned  to  the  roof. 

"  You  may  look  first,"  said  Mr.  Wetherbee,  train- 
ing the  telescope  towards  the  moon. 

"  I  can't  see  anything,"  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth, 
anxiously. 

"Oh,  I  forgot  to  open  the  slide,"  apologized  the 
exhibitor.  "Now  try  it." 

"  But  it 's  just  as  dark  as  before,"  protested  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth. 

"  You're  shutting  up  both  eyes,"  derided  her  hus- 
band; "better  open  one  of  'em." 

"  O-o-h-h  1 "  gurgled  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  acting  on 
this  hint,  "  how  perfectly  lovely  1  I  never  saw  such  a 
bright  moon  in  my  life !  Look  at  it,  Ellery." 

They  all  looked  at  it,  by  turns,  and  admired  the 
dark  places  which  Mrs.  Wetherbee  said  she  believed 
were  burned-out  volcanoes,  and  quite  deep,  when  you 
came  to  measure  them. 

"  But  I  don't  seem  to  see  where  the  eclipse  comes 
in,"  observed  Wetherbee  after  another  long  look. 
"  She  seems  to  be  sailing  along  in  full  regalia.  And 
it's  half  an  hour  after  time." 

"  Perhaps  something  is  out  of  fix  and  has  delayed 
166 


Enjoyed  the  Eclipse 


it  a  little  while,"  suggested  Mrs.  Wigglesworth.  "  You 
know  how  it  was  with  the  fireworks  at  Central  Park 
that  time,  Ellery  ? " 

"  Hark  !  "  said  Mrs.  Wetherbee,  raising  a  warning 
hand.  "  I  thought  I  heard  somebody  calling." 

"  Hullo,  up  there ! "  came  a  voice  from  the  front 
yard. 

"  It 's  the  minister's  voice,"  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth. 

"What  are  you  doing?"  asked  the  minister,  when 
greetings  had  been  exchanged. 

"  We  're  watching  the  eclipse,"  responded  Mr. 
Wetherbee ;  "  or  at  least  waiting  for  it,"  he  hastened 
to  add. 

"  But  the  eclipse  does  n't  come  off  till  tomorrow," 
said  the  minister,  earnestly. 

"  What 's  the  reason  it  don't "  retorted  Wetherbee, 
in  a  nettled  manner. 

"Because,"  explained  the  minister,  "an  eclipse  can 
only  occur  at  the  full  of  the  moon,  and  the  moon 
doesn't  full  this  month  until  Tuesday,  and  this  is 
only  Monday,  you  know.  You  must  have  made  a 
mistake  in  the  date." 

"  My  wife  did  that,"  Wetherbee  proudly  returned. 
"  She  got  her  information  out  of  a  Sunday  paper,"  he 
added,  raising  his  voice  above  the  horrified  pleadings 
of  his  wife,  while  the  minister  walked  away,  shaking 
his  head. 

"  I  hope  you  '11  get  enough  of  your  Wetherbees," 
hissed  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  after  they  had  walked 
toward  home  for  some  moments  in  moody  silence; 

167 


Enjoyed  the  Eclipse 


"  ever  since  that  old  rip  of  an  uncle  died  and  left  them 
a  few  dollars,  you  've  done  nothing  but  run  your  feet 
off  prancing  around  after  'em,  and  I  Ve  had  'em  with 
my  meals  till  I'm  worn  out.  We'd  'a'  been  perched 
up  on  that  tarred  roof  till  the  sun  rose,  with  that 
second-hand  brass  microscope  poked  into  the  heavens, 
looking  like  idiots,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  the  minister." 

Mrs.  Wiggleworth's  heart  swelled  with  church 
pride. 

"Ain't  he  the  smartest  minister  you  ever  saw!" 
she  cried,  in  excess  of  admiration.  "  He  knew  the 
minute  he  saw  us  up  there  that  it  was  the  wrong 
night.  I  declare,  I  never  saw  such  a  man  —  did  you, 
Ellery?" 

"  Y-a-a-h-h ! "  snorted  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  as  he 
kicked  open  the  front  door. 


168 


Chapter -XVIII 

How  WiggtesFWorih 
Set  Up  the 
Stove 


"'Where's   that  hired  girl  ?'  snarled  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
pausing  to  wipe  his  face."  —  Page  173. 


CHAPTER    XVIII.  —  How    Wigglesworth  Set 
Up  the  Stove 

-R-R-R-R  ! "  shuddered  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth  as  he  came  in  from  the-office ;  "  this 
house  is  cold's  a  barn  ! " 

"  I  know  it/  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth, 
pulling  a  shawl  more  closely  about  her.  "  I  sent 
Willie  down  to  the  store  for  a  man  to  come  and  set 
up  the  little  parlor  stove,  but  he  was  too  busy  today." 

"What  ye  want  to  rush  into  expense  like  that  for  ?  " 
demanded  Mr.  Wigglesworth  virtuously ;  "  ain't  they 
crowd  enough  of  us,  I'd  like  to  know,  to  set  up  an 
eighty-pound  stove,  without  paying  a  man  two  dollars 
to  come  and  leave  an  impression  of  his  smutty  hand 
on  the  parlor  paper  ? " 

"But  it  ain't  blacked,"  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth. 

"Well,  why  ain't  it?"  said  Mr.  Wigglesworth; 
"what's  that  hired  girl  doing,  I'd  like  to  ask,  that  she 
can't  find  time  to  smear  a  little  blacking  around  where 
it 's  needed  ?  Been  putting  a  full  library  binding  on 
one  of  those  fireproof  pies,  I  s'pose,  or  arranging  a  loaf 
of  her  impervious  cake.  Where  is  that  stove? " 

He  charged  out  into  the  shed,  where  the  stove  was 
discovered,  after  a  considerable  search,  buried  under 
a  wealth  of  debris  such  as  the  North  American  shed 
knows  so  well  how  to  accumulate. 

"  You  're  a  dandy  housekeeper,  ain't  ye  ? "  growled 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  as  he  fought  his  way  toward  the 
stove,  while  his  wife  stood  on  a  box  and  volunteered 

171 


Haw  WigglesHvorth 


advice.  "  Always  have  things  handy,  you  do  !  '  Hints 
On  Housekeeping,'  by  Mrs.  Wiggles  worth,  in  two 
volumes,  with  full  glossary  and  key.  Specially  recom- 
mended for  young  people  who  have  their  own  house 
and  want  to  keep  it  themselves.  That 's  what  you 
are." 

To  this  running  accompaniment  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
carved  his  way  through  the  debris,  pausing  now  and 
then,  when  he  encountered  an  ambushed  nail,  to  put 
his  fingers  into  his  mouth,  and  imparting  thereby  a 
weird  tone  to  the  howl  that  he  gave  vent  to. 

"  Who  nailed  the  thing  down  ? "  he  angrily  called, 
as  he  finally  got  in  where  his  hands  could  grip  the 
stove.  He  was  bent  over  in  the  most  painful  manner, 
which  afforded  him  but  little  breath  to  spare.  Every- 
body knows  how  mad  that  makes  a  man. 

"I  think,"  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  timidly  ventured, 
"  that  it's  heavier  than  you  thought." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  growled  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  "  you  're  a 
great  thinker,  you  are.  You  're  the  woman  that 
stands  around  on  one  foot  thinking  up  things  for  the 
heathen.  I've  read  about  you  in  the  literary 
reviews.  'Thoughts  That  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  Has 
Thought  Of.'  Particularly  designed  for  people  who 
have  to  have  their  thinking  done  elsewhere.  Why 
don't  ye  come  and  catch  hold  here  ? "  he  yelled. 

"  Mercy  I "  ejaculated  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  startled 
from  her  perch  by  the  intensity  of  her  husband's  com- 
mand ;  "  I  did  n't  know  you  wanted  me  to  help  1 " 

"What's   the   reason   ye   didn't?"  returned  Mr 

172 


Set  up  the  Stove 

Wigglesworth.  "  Think  I  've  got  the  only  back  in 
the  family  that  needs  breaking?  Want  me  to  pull 
my  arms  out  to  double  length,  don't  ye,  so's  you  can 
use  me  to  feel  around  on  the  top  shelves  of  closets 
and  find  things  ?  That's  what  you  want." 

"  It's  —  it's  awful  heavy,"  complained  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  as  she  bent  over  and  fastened  her  grasp  on  the 
iron  edge. 

"Pohl"  sniffed  her  husband,  "there  ye  go  first 
thing,  finding  fault.  Why  don't  ye  lift,  and  not  stop 
to  growl  so  much  ? " 

The  setting  sun,  looking  negligently  in  at  the  cob- 
webbed  window,  imparted  an  almost  unearthly  radiance 
to  the  distorted  countenance  of  Mr.  Wigglesworth  as 
he  strained  at  the  refractory  stove,  and  so  set  a 
noble  example  to  his  wife,  which  that  worthy  woman 
so  ably  emulated  as  to  burst  both  back  seams  of  her 
waist. 

"  Where's  that  hired  girl ! "  snarled  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  pausing  to  wipe  his  face  and  so  ornamenting 
himself  with  some  artistic  smooches  of  soot.  "What 
ye  got  her  concealed  for  just  the  time  we  need  her 
most  ?  Thinks  she 's  too  good  to  lift  on  a  parlor 
stove,  prob'ly.  Has  to  save  her  strength  for  the 
dance  to-morrow  night." 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  called  to  Imogene,  who  came 
out,  wiping  her  hands  on  the  cup  towel. 

"Here!"  directed  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  "you  two 
women  take  hold  of  the  top  and  I'll  snatch  out  the 
lower  end,  see?" 

173 


Hoew  Wigglesworth 


Whether  Imogene  possessed  a  strength  hitherto 
undreamed  of,  or  the  earlier  efforts  had  disengaged 
the  cumbering  kindlings  and  other  impedimenta  from 
about  the  stove  legs,  it  remains  a  fact  that  the  very 
first  boost  sent  the  whole  procession  careering  rockily 
across  the  shed  floor,  the  stove  surging  and  toppling 
and  Mr.  Wigglesworth's  vertebrae  sending  forth  a 
creaking  noise  that  was  ominous. 

"Put  it  down!"  he  grunted,  as  loud  as  his  bent 
position  would  admit.  "  What  ye  trying  to  do,  any- 
way ? "  he  blustered  as  he  straightened  up  and  glared 
at  his  assistants ;  "  want  to  snap  me  in  two  ? " 

"  It  seemed  to  come  itself,"  panted  Mrs.  Wigglec- 
worth,  looking  at  the  stove. 

"  Course  it  did,"  retorted  Mr.  Wigglesworth  scorn- 
fully ;  "  leave  it  alone  and  it  would  waltz  clean  into 
the  parlor,  prob'ly,  stick  its  pipe  into  the  chimney  and 
go  to  smoking.  Great  stove,  that  1 "  he  added,  and 
then  stopped  a  few  minutes  to  grin  over  the  unex- 
pected joke  he'd  made. 

"Now  ketch  hold  again,"  he  ordered,  and  this  time 
he  took  the  lighter  end  himself,  while  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  and  Imogene  tugged  with  freshened  zeal  at  the 
opposite  extremity. 

Across  the  cluttered  shed  floor  they  went  slowly 
shuffling,  their  heels  occasionally  catching  against 
things  and  threatening  disaster,  while  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth,  whose  tender  hands  were  lacerating,  dropped 
hot  tears  from  her  bulging  eyes  and  occasionally 
hoisted  up  a  sob. 


Set  up  the  Stove 

"What  ye  bellering  at  1 "  puffed  Mr.  Wiggles worh  ; 
"  don't  ye  know  any  better  than  to  cry  all  over  a  cast 
iron  stove  and  rust  it  ?  Great  household  economizer, 
you  arel" 

Then  they  came  to  the  step  that  rises  from  the 
shed  to  the  kitchen  door,  and  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  by 
virtue  of  bearing  the  lighter  end,  essayed  to  take  this 
backward. 

"  Careful,  now  1 "  he  shouted,  as  Imogene,  in  proof 
that  she  was  not  exhausted,  gave  an  energetic  shove ; 
"you  ain't  washing  dishes  this  time;  be  a  little 
easier  1 " 

Then  he  stepped  gingerly  upward  and  his  female 
coadjutors  trailed  behind. 

"Lift!  why  don't  ye  lift?"  he  shouted,  as  the 
effort  of  stepping  upward  communicated  unexpected 
weight  to  his  burden ;  "  think  I  'm  going  to  do  it  all 
—  wow!" 

The  concluding  remark  was  forced  out  of  him  sud- 
denly, as  the  bung  leaves  a  fermented  beer  keg,  by 
the  unexpected  enthusiasm  of  Imogene,  who,  giving  a 
shoulder  grandly,  sent  the  stove  full  into  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth's  stomach  and  pinned  that  gentleman  against 
the  kitchen  door,  just  as  the  woman  who  lived  next 
door  opened  it.  She  had  come  in  to  borrow  an  un- 
used egg,  and  hearing  voices  in  the  shed  came  out  to 
to  investigate.  From  her  account,  the  neighbors 
learned  how,  when  the  door  fell  open,  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth  shot  suddenly  into  the  back  entry  and  plunged 
his  shoulders  under  the  refrigerator,  while  the  parlor 


Set  up  the  Stove 

stove  following  closely  after,  sat  itself  cosily  down 
upon  his  legs  and  so  kept  him  from  kicking  holes  in 
the  plastering. 

"  But  it  was  dreadful,"  shuddered  the  woman  who 
lived  next  door,  "  to  stand  there  and  hear  the  things 
that  Mr.  Wigglesworth  was  saying,  though  you 
could  n't  exactly  hear  them,  either,  for  his  head  was 
under  the  refrigerator,  and  all  the  sounds  were 
muffled  as  they  came  through  the  zinc  lining.  I  don't 
know  what  we  would  have  done  if  the  iceman  had  n't 
come  in  just  then  and  pulled  the  stove  off  Mr. 
Wigglesworth." 

And  shaking  her  head  she  passed  through  the 
crowd  of  neighbors,  bearing  the  borrowed  egg  care- 
fully in  her  hand. 


176 


Chapter  XIX 

Hoew  Wigglesivorth 
Revived  His 
Shooting 


"'Sh!'  hissed  Mr.  Wigglesworth  with  an  angry  whisper, 
'  Can't  ye  keep  quiet?   She's  on  the  point.'  "  —  Page  181. 


CHAPTER  XIX.— How  Wigglesworth  Revived 
His  Shooting 


1 


crisp  October  air,  the  brilliant  foliage 
blazing  athwart  the  woods,  the  distant 
hills  floating  in  a  languorous  purple  haze, 
served  to  arouse  all  the  enthusiasm  with 
which  the  nature  of  Mr.  Wigglesworth  is  so  liberally 
endowed.  He  came  home  that  evening  laden  with  a 
gunning  outfit,  borrowed  of  a  sporting  friend,  and 
towing  a  lank,  red  dog,  whose  tail  persistently  clung 
inside  his  hindmost  legs. 

"  Oh !  "  screamed  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  as  she  caught 
sight  of  the  gun,  and  clapping  her  hands  to  her  ears, 
"what  have  you  got  there ? " 

"What  ye  s'pose  it  is?"  answered  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  yanking  the  refractory  dog  through  the  door ; 
"looks  like  a  pound  of  corned  beef,  don't  it." 

"Why,  of  course,  I  know  it  is  a  gun,"  said  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth,  "but  do  be  careful  of  it,  Ellery. 
Ain't  it  loaded?" 

"Loaded?"  sneered  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  kicking  the 
dog  from  under  the  lounge,  "what  ye  think  it  is,  a 
freight  car?  Think  it's  been  out  with  the  boys, 
don't  ye  ?  Come  out  of  that ! "  he  growled,  snatching 
the  lank  dog  from  the  lounge  whence  he  instantly 
took  refuge  under  the  piano. 

"He's  scared,"  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth.  "Poo' 
'ittle  doggie  —  pmsp,  pmsp  —  come  here  —  that's  a 

179 


How    Wtggleseworth 


nice  'ittle  doggie,"  she  coaxed,  whereupon  the  dog 
waltzed  suddenly  from  his  piano  retreat  and  sprang 
into  Mrs.  Wigglesworth's  lap. 

They  got  the  animal  tied  up  in  the  shed  finally, 
and  Mr.  Wigglesworth  explained,  as  they  had  supper, 
his  plans  for  a  day  in  the  woods. 

"  I  did  n't  know  you  could  shoot,"  said  his  wife,  as 
she  served  the  sauce. 

"  Shoot  ? "  returned  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  "  what's  the 
reason  you  did  n't  ?  I  was  one  of  the  greatest  shots 
in  town  when  we  lived  on  a  farm.  None  of  the  boys 
could  get  ahead  of  me,  except  the  Dodley  twins." 

"  But  ain't  you  afraid  ? "  persisted  Mrs  Wiggles- 
worth. 

"  Ain't  that  like  a  woman  ?  "  retorted  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  taking  the  sideboard  into  his  confidence. 
"  What  ye  going  to  be  afraid  of  ? " 

"Why,  suppose,"  conjectured  Mrs.  Wigglesworth, 
"  suppose  your  gun  should  go  off  when  you  were  n't 
looking,  and  you  should  get  in  front  of  it,  and  it 
should  shoot  a  hole  in  your  neck — then  what  would 
you  do  I'd  like  to  know?" 

"  What  would  I  do  ? "  retorted  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
with  his  finest  sarcasm,  "what  ye  s'pose?  Breathe 
through  it,  of  course.  That's  what  holes  in  the  neck 
are  for.  What  d'ye  think  I'd  do,  tie  a  yellow  ribbon 
in  it  and  go  to  a  dedication  ball  ?  Thought  I'd  speak 
a  piece  through  it,  did  n't  ye  ? " 

With  which  airy  persiflage  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
regaled  the  table,  meantime  perfecting  plans  for  the 

180 


Revived  his  Shooting 


morrow,  agreeing,  at  their  earnest  solicitation,  to  take 
his  wife  and  Willie  along,  and  arranging  finally  for  an 
early  start.  The  early  start  was  easy,  for  Mr.  Wig- 
gles worth  was  awake  nearly  all  the  night  in  a  fruitless 
attempt  to  stifle,  by  discharging  things  at  the  roof  of 
the  shed,  the  lank  dog's  awful  and  unremitting  howls. 

They  got  over  the  line  fence  and  found  themselves 
in  a  fair  bit  of  meadowland  with  some  trees  and 
bushes  at  the  far  side.  Tramping  across  the  crisp, 
brown  grass  the  blood  in  Mr.  Wigglesworth's  veins 
tingled  with  enthusiasm. 

"Oh,  my!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  "what 
is  the  matter  with  the  dog? " 

"  'Sh ! "  hissed  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  with  an  angry 
whisper,  "can't  ye  keep  quiet?  He's  on  a  point. 
Don't  ye  know  anything  ?  " 

"What  kind  of  a  point  is  it,  Ellery?"  said  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth,  earnestly. 

"  Keep  back ! "  hoarsely  aspirated  her  husband ; 
"have  some  sense,  can't  ye?  I'll  nail  a  bird  in  a 
minute. " 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  crouched  in  the  background 
and  observed  the  singular  actions  of  the  lank  dog, 
who  stood  with  his  head  rigidly  fixed  and  his  tail 
quivering  emotionally.  Mr.  Wigglesworth  assumed, 
for  some  moments,  a  contorted  attitude  of  expecta- 
tion, and  then  an  old  hen  came  chuckling  out  of  the 
grass  and  the  dog  greeted  her  effusively. 

"What  is  it,  Ellery?"  called  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
excitedly  ;  "  why  don't  you  shoot  ?  " 

181 


H<yw  Wigglesworth 


"  Why  don't  you  keep  yelling  all  the  time  ? " 
snapped  Mr.  Wigglesworth ;  "think  I  brought  you 
along  to  enjoy  your  conversation,  don't  ye?  What  ails 
ye,  you  old  fool  1 "  he  added  angrily,  aiming  a  kick  at 
the  dog  ;  "  don't  ye  know  a  hen  when  you  see  her  ?  " 

Then  they  moved  on. 

"  Now  stop  your  yap,"  directed  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
"  'cause  we  're  right  onto  the  birds.  Steady,  there, 
steady ! "  he  said  to  the  dog,  who  was  growing  stiff 
again. 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  and  Willie  hadn't  yet  got  past 
the  fence.  The  former  was  crawling  carefully  through 
the  rails,  while  Willie,  with  boyish  spirit  essayed  to 
go  over  them,  and  the  top  rail  broke  at  exactly  the 
right  moment  to  let  that  interesting  young  man 
down  on  his  mother's  back,  evoking  from  her  a 
frightened  yell  that  was  heard  by  a  man  painting  a 
barn  over  behind  the  mountain. 

Two  beautiful  brown  partridge,  startled  by  this 
unwonted  noise,  beat  the  long  roll  on  their  muffled 
drums  and  soared  grandly  away. 

"There  you  are!"  howled  Mr.  Wigglesworth,-danc- 
ing  up  and  down  and  brandishing  his  gun;  "what 
kind  of  a  fool  performance  are  you  getting  off  now  ? 
Don't  ye  know  better  than  to  scare  the  game  that 
way?" 

"Please  help  me  out,"  pleaded  Mrs.  Wigglesworth, 
still  fastened  by  the  rail,  and  her  husband  did  so,  with 
a  suddenness  that  fetched  her  breath  with  it. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  moodily  wiped  his  forehead. 
182 


Revived  his  Shooting 


"  Let '  s  have  no  more  of  this  foolishness,"  he  said 
severely.  "  D  '  ye  think  I  came  out  here  to  act  the 
monkey  for  you  and  this  boy  ?  " 

Half  an  hour  later  —  it  seemed  an  excellent  day 
for  the  birds,  Mr.  Wigglesworth  thought  —  the  lank 
dog  again  came  to  anchor  on  the  edge  of  some  invit- 
ing bushes  and  in  a  moment  a  long-billed  woodcock 
took  wing.  With  his  old-time  skill  Mr.  Wiggles  worth's 
gun  came  to  shoulder,  the  right  and  left  locks  clicked 
in  sharp  succession,  and  the  bird,  a  dark  brown  streak, 
vanished  down  the  glen. 

"Did  you  hit  it?"  screamed  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
from  the  distance.  Her  hands  were  over  her  ears, 
and  she  had  heard  no  report.  Neither  did  she  catch 
her  husband's  answering  remark.  Every  sportsman 
who  has  thrown  his  gun  upon  a  bird  without  previously 
slipping  in  a  cartridge  understands  that  it  is  no  moment 
for  the  idle  questionings  of  an  unsympathetic  woman. 

"  It 's  awfully  hot,"  complained  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
at  the  end  of  another  hour's  tramp ;  "  and  this  lunch- 
basket  's  getting  heavier  every  minute." 

So  they  sat  down  to  eat. 

"Why  don't  you  shoot  something?"  purred  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth  as  they  ate  away.  "  It  seems  an  awful 
waste  of  time  to  walk  so  far  and  not  get  anything." 

"  You  understand  the  whole  thing,  you  do,"  growled 
Mr.  Wigglesworth.  "You  ought  to  get  out  another 
book  about  it.  'Mrs.  Wigglesworth '  s  Game  Birds 
of  North  America,  with  full  directions  how  to  play 
the  game.' " 

183 


H&w  Wigglesworth 


Gradually  the  afternoon  and  the  high  heels  on 
Mrs.  Wiggles  worth's  shoes  wore  away.  She  never 
knew,  she  said  to  the  minister's  wife,  how  many  miles 
they  walked,  because  they  went  in  large  circles,  but 
it  was  a  good  many,  she  knew,  for  Ellery's  shoulder 
was  all  blistered,  carrying  the  gun.  The  lank  dog 
times  without  number  had  gone  wagging  into  the 
brush,  only  to  come  back  again  and  discouragedly  sit 
himself  down  and  shake  his  head  despondently.  Then 
at  the  last,  when  hope  had  well-nigh  passed  away,  a 
scent  once  more  was  struck,  the  dog  again  came 
rigidly  to  point  and  a  noble  bird  broke  cover. 

"Hit  it  —  hit  itl"  screamed  Mrs.  Wigglesworth. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  took  quick  aim  and  fired. 
Rather,  he  pulled  the  trigger,  knowing  a  cartridge 
was  in  place,  but  there  came  no  answering  report. 
With  a  smothered  howl  of  rage  he  dashed  the  gun  to 
the  ground.  The  shock  produced  an  explosion.  The 
lank,  red  dog,  standing  expectantly  in  the  foreground, 
found  occasion  to  regret  that  position,  for  the  charge 
of  shot  had  exactly  the  right  direction  to  rake  a 
channel  diagonally  across  his  back.  With  a  shriek  of 
surprise  he  whirled  and  ran  between  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth's  legs,  upsetting  that  frightened  gentleman, 
and  then  espying  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  sitting  on  a 
rock  near  by,  and  recalling  her  friendly  sympathy  of 
the  previous  evening,  he  precipitated  himself  once 
more  into  that  lady's  lap  and  rolled  himself  rapidly 
over  and  over  in  a  vain  -attempt  to  assuage  that 
blazing  back. 

184 


Revived  his  Shooting 


"  It  will  cost  you  $25  for  shooting  on  my  premises," 
said  a  red-faced  man,  as  the  party  laboredly  climbed 
the  fence  into  the  road ;  and  he  pointed  to  a  sign  to 
that  effect. 

"But  I  think,"  protested  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  as 
they  wended  their  painful  way  homeward,  "  that  it 's 
just  too  mean  for  anything  to  charge  $25  when  you 
didn't  shoot  anything  but  just  your  own  dog,  and 
even  that  was  a  borrowed  one  —  and,  O  Ellery,  do 
you  suppose  the  man  who  lent  you  the  poor  dog 
will " 

"Why  don't  you  close  your  head?"  advised  Mr. 
Wigglesworth. 


185 


Chapter  XX 

Hoew  Wigglesxvorth 

Kept  a 

Horse 


"  '  O,  Ellery,'  she  screamed  with  a  woman's  presence  of 
mind,  '  come  away  instantly.'  "  —  Page  192. 


CHAPTER  XX.—  How  Wigglesworth  Kept  a 
Horse. 


1 


it  is!"  gleefully  cried  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth,  running  to  the  window. 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  followed  in  a 
flutter.  It  was  her  birthday,  and  she'd 
been  hoping  since  morning  that  her  husband  would 
remember  it.  She  saw  a  fat,  red-faced  man  leading  a 
tall  sorrel  horse  into  the  yard. 

"What  —  what  is  it,  Ellery?"  she  asked,  in  mild 
wonderment. 

"What  is  it?"  echoed  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  smartly, 
"  it's  a  horse,  of  course.  Wha'  d'ye  s'pose  it  was  — 
a  boiled  dinner  ?  Thought  the  man  was  leading  in  a 
farm  mortgage,  did  n't  ye  ?  " 

"And  did  you  get  it  for  me?"  chirped  Mrs.  Wig- 
glesworth, clapping  her  hands.  "  Oh,  how  good  of 
you,  Ellery,  to  remember  that  it  was  my  birthday  I " 
So  she  kissed  her  husband  on  his  whiskers — women 
love  to  kiss  their  husbands  on  their  whiskers  —  and 
putting  an  apron  over  her  head  she  followed  him  out 
of  doors.  The  tall  sorrel  horse  had  his  nose  in  the 
air  and  was  wrinkling  his  lips  back  over  his  forehead 
in  a  peculiar  fashion.  Now  and  then  he  would  thrust 
one  foot  out  toward  the  horizon  in  an  impromptu 
way,  and  look  disappointed  when  the  red-faced  man 
turned  out  to  be  elsewhere. 

"Where'll  I  put  'im?"  asked  the  red-faced  man. 

189 


H&w  Wigglestworth 


He  also  had  a  hoarse  voice  that  rumbled,  and  at 
sound  of  which  the  sorrel  horse  would  stand  up  in  the 
air  till  he  felt  the  red-faced  man's  fat  weight  at  the 
end  of  the  halter,  and  then  he  would  come  down 
again,  reaching  for  the  red-faced  man  as  he  did  so, 
but  unfortunately  missing  him  again.  After  some 
trouble  the  animal  was  got  into  the  stall  in  the  little 
stable  and  the  red-faced  man  went  away,  while  Imo- 
gene  came  out  and  gathered  up  the  line-full  of  clothes 
that  had  been  cast  down  and  stepped  on. 

"  You  see,  it's  this  way,"  Mr.  Wigglesworth  ex- 
plained in  a  voice  of  pride,  as  they  were  eating 
supper ;  "  I  thought  it  would  be  a  good  thing  for 
you  to  have  a  horse  this  spring,  and  get  out  of  doors 
more.  So  I  went  to  a  man  I  know  and  told  him 
what  I  wanted,  and  he's  sent  up  just  the  thing  —  a 
woman's  driving  horse  —  one  that  a  child  can  handle. 
Quite  a  surprise,  wasn't  it?"  he  added,  with  the 
self-complacency  that  a  man  assumes  in  doing  a  thing 
without  consulting  his  wife. 

"  Oh,  it's  too  delightful  for  anything !  "  cooed  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth.  "  But  do  you  think  I  can  drive  him  ? 
Doesn't  he  seem  rather  —  er  —  tall  ?  Not  so  awfully 
tall,"  she  hastened  to  add,  noting  her  husband's  fall- 
ing countenance,  "  but  —  but  — just  — 

"  Oh,  yes,  of  course,"  said  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  hold- 
ing his  knife  and  fork  on  end  and  addressing  the 
sideboard,  "he's  too  tall.  I  oughter  thought  of  that. 
Might  have  looked  around  and  found  one  with  short 
legs,  so  the  hired  girl  could  go  over  him  with  the 

190 


Kept  a  Horse 

carpet  sweeper.     That's  the  kind  of  a  horse  for  us  1 " 

They  talked  the  matter  over  after  supper.  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  said  he  was  going  to  take  care  of  the 
animal  himself,  as  what  he  needed  in  the  spring  was 
exercise,  to  work  the  accumulated  sluggishness  of 
winter  out  of  his  blood.  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  said 
she  was  going  to  learn  to  put  the  bridle  onto 'him  — 
onto  the  horse  —  without  standing  on  a  chair,  and 
afternoons,  she  said,  she  would  drive  around  by  the 
office  and  bring  her  husband  home  to  supper,  for  she 
knew  how  tired  he  must  be  after  a  hard  day's  work. 

There  was  considerable  pawing  around  in  the  stable 
during  the  night. 

"  Don't  you  think  you  best  take  the  lantern  and  go 
see  if  everything  is  all  right  ? "  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
suggested.  "Perhaps  his  blanket  has  slipped  off." 

"Well,  it'll  stay  slipped  off  for  all  of  me,"  retorted 
her  husband.  "  Want  me  to  go  out  and  get  stepped 
on,  don't  ye  ?  Think  it  would  be  a  good  idea  to  stir 
up  his  pillow  and  put  a  hot  water  bottle  to  his  feet,  I 
s '  pose.  Guess  he's  used  to  sleeping  alone.  Probably 
he's  having  strange  dreams,  first  time  in  a  new  stable, 
so.  Nightmare,  prob '  ly."  This  conceit  so  amused 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  that  he  lay  awake  a  long  time 
chuckling  at  it. 

But  early  in  the  morning,  just  as  the  first  rays  of 
dawn  were  slanting  downward  over  Sawyer's  barn, 
there  was  a  succession  of  tremendous  noises  that 
called  Mr.  Wigglesworth  hastily  from  bed,  and  he 
rushed,  half-dressed,  toward  the  stable.  When  Mrs. 

191 


Haw  Wigglesworth 


Wigglesworth  soon  after  got  there,  her  blood  stood 
still  with  horror  of  the  sight  that  met  her  gaze.  The 
tall  sorrel  horse  had  his  two  front  legs  over  the  side 
of  the  stall,  and  with  his  neck  stretched  to  the  farth- 
est limits  of  the  halter  was  making  frantic  gestures 
toward  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  who  had  climbed  hastily 
upon  a  feed-box  in  the  corner  and  was  convulsively 
clinging  to  the  wall,  with  a  look  on  his  face  that  his 
wife  never  had  seen  there  before. 

"  Oh,  Ellery ! "  she  screamed,  with  a  woman's  ready 
presence  of  mind ;  "  come  away  instantly  1 " 

"  Come  away  1 "  shouted  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  making 
himself  still  flatter  against  the  wall  as  the  sorrel  horse 
essayed  another  grab  and  tore  off  one  of  his  suspend- 
ers, "  oh,  of  course  —  that '  s  it  —  that '  s  all  I  want  to 
do — just  wave  my  hand  to  the  conductor  and  get 
aboard  and  ring  two  bells  and  go  ahead  1  Would  n'  t 
have  thought  of  that  if  you  hadn't — wow!"  and  he 
fetched  another  shriek  as  the  sorrel  stretched  the  hal- 
ter an  added  inch  and  snorted  a  cupful  of  foam  down 
Mr.  Wigglesworth' s  neck. 

"  What  ye  standing  there  for  ? "  he  yelled.  "  Don't 
ye  see  I  can't  move  without  losing  my  life  and  all 
I  v'e  got  on  ? " 

"What  shall  I  do?"  wailed  his  wife,  wringing  her 
hands. 

"  Do  ?  Why  get  an  axe  and  chop  his  blamed  old 
head  off  1  Go  get  a  wood  auger  and  bore  a  hole  in 
him  somewhere  and  see  if  that  won't  take  his  atten- 
tion? Go—" 

192 


Kept  a  Horse 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  was.  a  woman  who  could  be 
roused  to  momentous  situations.  She  came  down 
from  the  stairs  and  waved  her  apron  gently. 

"  Shoo ! "  she  said  to  the  sorrel  horse. 

"That's  it!"  her  husband  cried,  "that's  the  way 
to  shoo  a  horse ! "  and  ghastly  as  the  humor  seemed 
to  be  he  found  himself  smiling  at  it.  But  his  wonder 
redoubled  when  the  sorrel  horse,  after  looking  at 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth  for  a  moment  with  a  surprised 
air,  slipped  demurely  down  from  the  edge  of  the  stall 
and  began  scratching  his  neck  reflectively  on  the 
manger. 

"  There  you  are,"  said  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  climbing 
down  from  the  box  and  cautiously  approaching  the 
stall.  The  animal  had  his  eyes  closed,  and  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth as  he  took  hold  of  the  halter,  remembering 
his  suspender,  could  not  forbear  giving  it  a  vicious 
little  jerk. 

What  followed,  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  explained  to 
the  doctors.  The  tall  sorrel,  she  said,  when  he  felt 
the  jerk  at  the  halter,  seemed  to  turn  and  shoot  a 
hasty  but  astonished  look  at  her  husband.  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth's  hands  appeared  glued  to  the  halter,  she 
said,  for  when  the  sorrel  stood  up  on  his  hind  legs 
and  walked  out  of  the  stall,  Mr.  Wigglesworth  came 
with  him,  swinging  back  and  forth  like  the  pendulum 
to  a  clock,  only  faster.  When  the  sorrel  got  out  in 
the  barn  floor  he  looked  around  for  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth,  but  failing  to  discover  her  at  first,  he  per- 
formed a  few  complicated  dance  movements,  such  as 


Hem)  Wigglesworth 


circus  horses  make,  leaving  portions  of  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth's  clothing  and  cuticle  upon  the  studding  and 
rafters  of  the  stable  as  he  went  along.  Then  he  put 
his  arm  around  that  gentleman  and  charged  out  of 
doors.  Imogene  had  just  time  to  look  over  her 
shoulder  and  see  the  procession  coming,  and  then 
drop  her  clothes  basket  and  crawl  under  the  stoop. 
When  the  sorrel  horse  came  down,  again  missing 
Imogene  by  an  inch,  he  put  his  off  hind  foot  through 
the  clothes  basket  and  wore  it  away  with  him. 

It  made  one  of  the  best  items  of  news  the  local 
paper  ever  printed,  and  even  got  copied  into  a  city 
daily,  with  pictures.  People  coming  out  of  their 
houses  would  see  Mr.  Wigglesworth  every  few 
minutes  going  into  the  air,  and  then  coming  down, 
closely  followed  by  the  sorrel  horse,  with  his  leg 
thrust  through  the  basket,  and  accumulating  mud 
which  ever  and  anon  he  would  shake  off  upon  the 
bystanders  as  he  went  hurtling  past. 

Half  an  hour  later  Mr.  Wigglesworth  climbed 
slowly  up  the  stoop,  a  fragment  of  the  halter,  ap- 
parently forgotten,  showing  in  his  hands. 

"  My  darling,  darling  Ellery ! "  sobbed  his  wife, 
with  a  pale  face,  tottering  forward. 

"  Don't  ye  fall  on  me  1 "  warned  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
the  passionate  lines  on  his  face  growing  deeper; 
"  don't  ye  come  whining  around  here  asking  for  any 
more  family  horses  warranted  to  stand  without  hitch- 
ing !  The  kind  of  a  family  horse  you  want  is  a  gen- 
tle, long-eared  donkey,  and  blamed  if  I  don't  wish 
you'd  got  one  before  you  ever  saw  me  1  " 

194 


Kept  a.  Horse 

And  in  explaining  it  afterwards  to  the  minister's 
wife,  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  said  it  did  seem  queer  that 
Ellery  should  lay  it  all  onto  her,  when  the  horse  was 
just  as  much  of  a  surprise  to  her  as  it  was  to  any- 
body. Especially  Mr.  Wigglesworth. 


Chapter  XXI 

H<yw  Wiggleseworth 
Cared  for  Wether- 
bee's  Oleander 


"Therefore  they  knew  that  the  weight  of  the  oleander  had 
temporarily  unhinged  his  reason."  —  Page  204. 


CHAPTER  XXI.— How   Wigglesworth  Cared 
for  Wetherbee's  Oleander 

HAT'S  that?"  coldly  inquired  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  on  coming  home  to 
supper. 

In  the  corner  of  the  room  stood  a 
tall,  tree-like  plant  that  he  'd  never  seen  before. 

"It's  an  oleander,"  chirped  Mrs.  Wigglesworth, 
waving  her  arms  toward  the  shrub  with  a  gesture  of 
delight. 

"  Humph  !  "  grunted  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  regarding 
it  with  an  unfavorable  eye  —  with  two  unfavorable 
eyes,  in  fact. 

The  oleander  stood  six  feet  high,  and  its  spread  of 
limb  was  surprising,  disclosing  branches  that  em- 
bodied every  variety  of  twist  and  displayed  their 
eccentricity  the  more  that  a  larger  part  of  their 
foliage  had  fallen  off.  Moreover,  it  reared  itself  from 
a  large,  round  tub  painted  a  bright  blue  color,  and 
over  the  dirt  in  which  the  roots  were  embedded 
trailed  a  variety  of  spools  and  scraps  of  paper  and 
cotton  cloth  and  charred  matches  and  hairpins  and 
other  things  that  indoor  plants  understand  so  well 
how  to  accumulate. 

"Yes,"  added  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  as  they  sat  down 
to  supper,  "  it  is  a  present  from  Mrs.  Wetherbee.  She 
heard  me  saying  that  mother  used  to  have  an  oleander 
when  I  was  a  girl,  and  so  she  sent  this  one  over  today. 

199 


Hoew  Wiggle&worth 


You  know  they  are  going  South  to  spend  the  winter, 
Ellery,  so,  of  course,  they  won't  need  it." 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  worked  the  point  of  his  knife 
into  another  biscuit. 

"  I  think  it  was  awfully  nice  of  Mrs.  Wetherbee," 
added  Mrs.  Wigglesworth. 

"That's  so,"  assented  her  husband;  "great  phil- 
anthropists, them  Wetherbees.  Prob'ly  wanted  to 
take  it  South  with  .'em  but  thinkin'  you '  d  be  lonesome 
with  nobody  but  a  hired  girl  to  talk  to  they  sent  it 
over  here.  That '  s  the  kind  of  neighbors  the  Wether- 
bees  are." 

"  Will  —  will  you  help  me  with  it,  after  supper  ? " 
ventured  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  timidly. 

"  Help  ye  with  it  ? "  repeated  Mr.  Wigglesworth  in 
a  tone  of  surprise. 

"  Yes,"  explained  his  wife,  playing  nervously  with 
the  hem  of  the  tablecloth,  "  it's  —  it's  got  to  go  down 
cellar,  you  know." 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  laid  his  knife  and  fork  on  the 
table  and  stared  stonily  at  his  wife. 

"What's  the  matter  with  its  taking  up  the  east 
half  of  the  sitting  room  ? "  he  demanded,  recovering 
his  tongue.  "  Can't  ye  find  room  for  Wigglesworth 
in  the  parlor?  Put  Wigglesworth  out  in  the  front 
hall,  can't  ye  ?  " 

"They  always  do  keep  them  in  the  cellar,  winters," 
pouted  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  following  her  husband  to 
the  other  room. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  regarded  the  oleander,  standing 

200 


Cared  for  Wetherbee's  Oleander 

stiffly  erect,  and  a  look  of  malevolence  invaded  his 
features. 

"Think  I'm  going  to  saw  a  hole  in  the  floor?"  he 
demanded  sourly. 

"  Can't  you  carry  it  down  stairs  ? "  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  suggested. 

"Perhaps  I  could  if  I  were  a  derrick,"  retorted  her 
husband.  "What  d'ye  think  I  am,  an  elevator? 
Pull  a  wire  rope  and  I'll  go  to  the  fourth  floor  with  a 
load  of  fat  women,  you  prob'ly  think." 

Stooping  under  the  lower  branches  of  the  plant,  he 
made  a  sudden  snatch  at  the  tub  handles  and  tore  one 
of  them  away. 

"That's  a  nice  kind  of  a  tub  to  send  out  oleanders 
in,  ain't  it  ? "  he  cried,  and  he  kicked  off  some  of  the 
blue  paint. 

"  Here '  s  Imogene,"  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  ; "  she'll 
help  you." 

"  You  get  under  there  and  catch  hold  of  the  bottom 
of  the  tub,"  ordered  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  and  the  hired 
girl  did  so.  "  Now  lift  her  over,"  he  added,  "  while  I 
grab  the  thing  around  the  waist." 

"  Oh !  "  screamed  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  who  was  hold- 
ing open  the  door,  "  you '  re  hitting  the  chandelier  1 " 

Even  as  she  called  there  was  a  spluttering  crash, 
the  chandelier  rocked  violently  and  one  of  the  globes 
fell  from  its  moorings.  Inevitably  it  would  have 
smashed  on  the  floor,  had  it  not  been  neatly  inter- 
cepted by  Mr.  Wiggles  worth's  head,  on  which  it 
perched  itself  with  notable  airiness. 

2OI 


Wiggleseworth 


"  Wow ! "  yelled  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  for  the  gas  had 
been  long  enough  lighted  to  heat  the  globe  to  a  lively 
temperature.  Only  for  a  few  brief  seconds  did  it 
hold  its  coign  of  vantage  —  only,  in  short,  while  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  was  prancing  through  the  folding  doors 
into  the  parlor  and  back  again,  lashing  the  air  with 
his  arms  and  screaming,  and  then  he  discovered  what 
the  matter  was  and  hurled  the  offending  globe  through 
a  window. 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  put  some  witch  hazel  upon  her 
husband's  bald  top,  around  which  the  globe  had 
scorched  a  little  brown  nimbus. 

"  Be  careful  what  you're  doing,  now,"  he  growled 
to  Imogene,  and  they  got  the  oleander  to  the  top  of 
the  cellar  stairs,  while  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  stayed  behind 
to  pick  up  the  remains  of  an  imitation  marble  statue 
and  a  picture  of  Napoleon  in  the  act  of  crossing  the 
Alps  on  a  horse  with  three  legs  in  the  air  at  one  time, 
which  the  young  tree  had  clawed  from  the  walls  in 
passing. 

"  Let  me  get  ahead  there,"  commanded  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  and  he  crawled  under  the  oleander  and  squeezed 
himself  into  the  narrow  cellarway,  along  with  Imogene 
and  the  tub.  "What  ails  the  thing?"  he  muttered, 
pulling  at  the  tree,  which  had  become  wedged  in  the 
door ;  "  why  don't  it  come  through  ? " 

"  It  ain't  short  enough,"  said  the  hired  girl. 

"Ain't  short  enough?"  retorted  Mr.  Wiggleworth, 
"  what  ye  think  it  is  —  pie  crust  ?  Want  to  get  a 
chance  to  put  in  two  pounds  more  of  that  thirty-cent 
butter,  don't  ye  ? " 

202 


Cared  for  Wetherbee's  Oleander 

With  extraordinary  exercise  of  energy  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth  rocked  the  tub  forward  and  back. 

"What  makes  the  thing  stick  so?"  he  panted, 
straining  anew.  "What  ye  doing  on  the  other  end 
there?"  he  called  to  his  wife. 

"I'm  holding  it,"  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  answered, 
"just  as  tight  as  I  can,  Ellery,  so  it  won't  slip  down 
cellar  and  crush  you." 

Earnestly  desiring  to  do  the  most  helpful  thing  in 
the  world,  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  had  grasped  the  end 
of  the  oleander  that  projected  into  the  kitchen,  and 
with  her  feet  braced  against  the  pantry  door  was  hold- 
ing on  till  her  eyes  stood  out. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  fairly  snorted  in  his  wrath. 

"Leggo  of  it!"  he  roared  passionately.  "Think 
I '  m  going  to  pull  my  lungs  out  in  this  dark  cellarway 
and  step  on  'em  ?  Get  off  the  end  of  that  tree !  " 

When  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  released  her  hold,  the 
oleander,  sensible  of  the  momentum  that  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth's  energy  had  imparted  to  it,  smiled  an  almost 
human  smile  and  did  what  every  oleander  has  done 
since  Adam,  as  a  personal  favor  to  Eve,  undertook  to 
carry  the  primal  oleander  down  into  their  cave  cellar. 
Imogene,  giving  voice  to  a  single  shriek,  cleared  the 
stairs  at  a  bound  and  scuttled  behind  the  furnace. 

"Get  out  —  stop  it  —  take  it  off  —  wowl"  roared 
Mr.  Wigglesworth,  but  the  narrow  walls  kept  back 
his  cries  from  the  police  and  there  was  none  to  help. 

Imogene,  peering  in  fright  around  the  furnace,  saw 
a  bright  blue  procession  shoot  down  the  stairs.  Even 

203 


Cared  for  Wetherbee's  Oleander 

as  it  passed,  the  oleander,  with  a  light  and  frolicsome 
laugh,  reached  up  and  removed  from  the  surrounding 
shelves  and  hooks  such  pans  and  kettles  and  crocks  of 
milk  and  things  put  by  on  plates  to  warm  up  for  break- 
fast as  it  could  lay  its  hands  upon,  and  with  these  to 
aid  and  abet  its  flight  it  kept  on  to  where  a  brick 
chimney,  arising  near  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  arrested 
its  progress. 

"  Ellery  —  my  darling  Ellery  1 "  called  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth,  peering  agonizedly  down  through  the  dust. 

She^aw  her  husband  prone  upon  his  back,  wedged 
against  the  chimney.  The  tub  had  fallen  squarely 
upon  him,  and  bursting  its  hoops  had  sifted  the  dirt 
over  him  in  a  huge  conical  pile,  out  of  which  the 
oleander  strutted  aloft,  wearing  upon  its  triumphant 
branches  a  variety  of  things  which  she  hadn't  time  to 
enumerate. 

Uttering  a  shriek,  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  bolted  for 
the  neighbors. 

When  they  got  back  they  found  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
and  the  hired  girl  dodging  each  other  around  the  fur- 
nace. Mr.  Wigglesworth  had  a  jug  in  his  hand,  out 
of  which  flowed  a  stream  of  molasses,  and  as  this 
trickled  down  the  knees  of  his  trousers,  he  laughed 
horribly. 

Therefore  they  knew  that  the  weight  of  the  oleander 
had  temporarily  unhinged  his  reason. 


204 


Chapter  XXII 

Hoew  Wiggles<worth 
Studied  Art 


"  '  Is  —  is  that  oatmeal  ?'  he  slowly  inquired."  —  Page  210. 


CHAPTER  XXII.— How  Wigglesworth  Studied 

Art 

MRS.  WIGGLESWORTH  had  her  face 
knit  up  into  the  expression  that  goes 
along  with  critical  admiration,  and  she 
stood  alternately  thrusting  her  head 
forward  and  drawing  it  back  again,  then  directing  a 
side  glance,  then  projecting  a  number  of  little  nods 
and  tapping  her  foot  gently. 

"What  ye  acting  out  now?"  grinned  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth  from  the  door. 

"  Oh ! "  said  his  wife,  with  a  little  scream,  "  is  it 
you,  Ellery?" 

"'Course  it's  me,"  returned  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
plucking  off  his  coat  with  emphasis,  for  things  had 
gone  ill  at  the  office;  "can't  ye  identify  your  own 
husband?  Thought  it  was  the  man  with  the  iron 
mask,  didn't  ye?  What  ye  got  there?" 

"It's  a  pastel,"  cooed  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  coming 
back  to  the  object  of  her  previous  solicitations ;  "  I  've 
just  finished  it,  in  our  painting  class,  you  know.  Mrs. 
Wetherbee  says  she  thinks  it  is  nice." 

"  Humph ! "  commented  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  going 
up  to  the  table,  "  what  kind  of  a  thing  is  it  ?  What 's 
it  all  about  ?  " 

"You're  too  near,"  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth;  "you 
must  stand  at  this  distance  if  you  want  the  particu- 
lars to  resolve  themselves  into  their  just  proportions." 

207 


Wigglesworth 


"  Huh !  "  hooted  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  resenting  the 
air  of  superiority  with  which  his  wife  delivered  this 
information ;  "  how  do  you  know  where  I  want  to 
stand  ?  Where  d  'ye  get  all  that  purple  paint  ?  Must 
be  the  expensive  kind,  you  use  so  much  of  it." 

"It's  an  impressionist  picture,"  explained  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth  with  an  air ;  "  the  colors  are  laid  in 
broadly,  you  know." 

"  I  sh'd  say  they  was,"  sneered  Mr.  Wigglesworth  ; 
"  I  sh'd  think  they  was  laid  in  for  Winter  use,  with 
the  idea  that  it  was  going  to  be  a  hard  Winter.  What 
d'ye  call  the  thing,  anyway  ?  What's  that  freight  en- 
gine doing  out  there  all  by  itself?" 

"  It  isn't  a  freight  engine,"  answered  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  severely  ;  "  it's  an  old  mill.  The  picture  is  called 
'The  Old  Mill  by  Moonlight.'  It's  a  winter  scene, 
you  know." 

"  I  know,"  assented  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  nodding  his 
head  with  intelligent  affability.  "  I  see  it  is.  All  that 
purple  paint  is  the  snow,  prob'ly." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  glad  to  note 
her  husband's  interest. 

"What  makes  'em  have  purple  snow?"  asked  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  with  the  affected  manner  of  the  true 
seeker  after  knowledge.  "When  I  was  a  boy  the 
snow  used  to  be  a  deep  red,  except  when  the  sun  got 
warm,  and  then  it  was  a  dark  green." 

"Oh,  that's  the  new  art,"  replied  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth;  "we — we  mass  the  colors,  you  understand." 

"Oh,    yes,"    said    her   husband,    "I    understand. 

208 


Studied  Art 

What's  that  balloon  doing  over  behind  that  picket 
fence  ? " 

"That  isn't  a  balloon,"  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  a 
little  nettled,  "  nor  a  picket  fence  either ;  it's  the  moon 
rising  above  a  distant  range  of  wooded  hills." 

"Why,  that's  so,"  acknowledged  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
standing  on  his  other  foot  and  shutting  up  one  eye ; 
"I  might  have  known  that  'cause  it's  painted  yellow. 
What's  that  orphan  asylum  got  to  do  with  it  ? " 

"Ellery  Wigglesworth,"  said  his  wife  sternly,  while 
her  face  flushed,  "  you  know  as  well  as  I  do  that  there 
isn't  any  such  thing.  That's  the  —  the  dam." 

"Well  named,  too,"  muttered  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
grinning  effusively. 

"You  ought  to  be  ashamed,"  said  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth,  sternly,  "  to  make  such  low  remarks  right  be- 
fore your  own  son." 

"I  didn't  say  anything,"  retorted  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth.  "  What  did  I  say  ? "  he  continued,  appealing 
to  the  chandelier. 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  got  out  her  handkerchief. 

"  I  'm  sure,"  she  said  tearfully,  "  I  thought  you 
would  be  —  be  glad  to  see  a  —  a  picture  of  mine  — 
and — and  proud." 

"Well,  I  am,  ain't  I?"  said  Mr.  Wigglesworth; 
"  don't  ye  hear  me  trying  to  find  out  its  good  points  ? 
How  d  'ye  s'pose  I  'd  know  what  it  was,  coming  on  it 
the  first  time  so,  all  alone  ?  They  did  n't  have  such 
pictures  when  I  was  a  boy." 

"It's  only  a  recent  thing,"  chirped  Mrs.  Wiggles- 

2P9 


Hoew  Wiggtesworth 


worth,  regaining  her  good  nature ;  "  you  get  used  to 
it  after  a  time." 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  had  a  newspaper  rolled  into  a 
tube  and  was  peering  through  it  fixedly. 

"Is  —  is  that  oatmeal?"  he  slowly  inquired  after 
another  moment  of  study. 

"  Is  what  ? "  returned  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  and  then 
she  bit  her  lips. 

"That  yellow  stuff  near  what  you  call  the  —  the 
dam?"  said  her  husband. 

"  That's  the  water,"  replied  Mrs.  Wigglesworth ; 
"  don't  you  see  it  is  trickling  down  over  the  old  wheel, 
and  that  it  is  frozen  here  and  there  ?  " 

"  Is  that  a  wheel  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Wigglesworth  in  a 
cordial  tone ;  "  it  looks  so  red  I  thought  it  must  be 
a  patent  farming  implement  of  some  kind  that  had 
been  left  outdoors  so  as  to  be  handy  in  case  of  an 
early  Spring.  Er  —  what  kind  of  a  wheel  did  you 
say  it  was  ?  "  he  added,  with  a  kindly  interest. 

"  A  mill  wheel  of  course,"  snapped  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth,  going  down  after  her  handkerchief  again , 
"  what  kind  of  a  wheel  did  you  think  it  would  be  next 
to  a  mill  ?  " 

"  How  d'ye  s'pose  I  knew  ?  "  bristled  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  a  momentary  flash  of  his  old  manner  taking 
the  place  of  the  light  and  easy  banter  which  he  had 
assumed  ;  "  impossible  to  say  what  kind  of  a  wheel 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth  would  put  into  her  purple  art.  If 
that's  a  mill  wheel,"  he  went  on,  coming  back  to  his 
role  of  truth  seeking,  "  and  you  give  me  your  word  of 

210 


Studied  Art 

honor  that  that  yellow  stuff  is  water  and  not  oatmeal, 
how  d'ye  come  to  get  the  water  so  much  lower  in  the 
pond  than  it  is  where  it  flows  over  the  dam  ?  What 
makes  —  " 

"  Ellery  Wiggles  worth,"  sobbed  his  wife,  "  you  — 
you  know  this  is  my  first  picture,  and  it  ain't  —  ain't 
fair  to  —  to  criticise  it  that  way.  You  have  to  sit 
back  and  look  at  —  at  these  im  —  impressionist  pic- 
tures some  —  sometimes  half  an  hour,  and  then  when 
you  —  you  look  and  —  and  look,  it  dawns  upon  you 

—  all  of  a  sudden  —  and  —  and  the  broad  colors  look 

—  look  beautiful  —  and  you  can  only  make  fun,  when 
I  did  it  to  surprise  you,  and  I  think  it  mean  —  mean 
of  you,  Ellery  Wiggles  worth  to  —  " 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  flung  out  of  the  room. 

"  That 's  it ;  that 's  the  way ! "  he  cried,  as  he  went 
up  stairs  to  comb  his  hair;  "man  works  his  life  out 
at  the  office  to  buy  his  wife  clothes  and  purple  paint 
and  stuff,  and  when  he  comes  home  tired  to  death, 
and  tries  to  have  a  little  fun  in  his  family,  same  as 
the  articles  in  scrapbooks  advise,  everybody  pitches 
in  and  spoils  it." 

"Great  old  artist  you  are,  ain't  ye?"  he  called, 
raising  his  voice  above  the  noise  of  the  bath-room 
faucet ;  "  I  '11  bet  a  dollar  you  can't  tell  a  chiar  oscuro 
from  a  tube  of  yellow  squash.  You  and  Aubrey 
Beardsley  better  start  a  shop  together.  That 's  the 
stuff  1  Wigglesworth  &  Beardsley,  dealers  in  all  kinds 
of  paint,  oil,  glass,  putty,  et  cetera.  Signs  painted 
on  fences  and  barns  during  the  owner's  absence.  Call 

211 


Studied  Art 

on  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  when  in  want  of  pictures  to 
surprise  your  husbands  with.  N.  B.  Liberal  reduc- 
tion to  people  furnishing  their  own  paint." 

And  though  Mr.  Wigglesworth  ran  on  thus  for  a 
considerable  period,  his  voice  mounting  with  the  in- 
creased fineness  of  its  sarcasm,  his  wife's  sobs  were 
so  much  louder  and  more  closely  connected  that  he 
found  his  efforts  wasted. 


212 


Chapter  XXIII 


Wigglestworth 
Helped  His  Wife 
Receive 


"  '  Want  to  keep  me  here  grinding  this  old  crank  till  Christ- 
mas, don't  ye  ?  ' "  —  Page  219. 


CHAPTER  XXIIL—Hou>  Wigglesworth Helped 
His  Wife  Receive 


f^"        ~"^HE    invitations    to   Mrs.    Wigglesworth's 

afternoon  reception  had  been  out  a  week, 

the  front  parlor  was  becomingly  set  off 

with  asparagus  green  and  the  brightness 

of  autumn  leaves,  and  it  looked  as  if  the  thing  was 

going  to  be  one  of  the   nicest  social   events  of  the 

season. 

"They'll  begin  coming  at  four  o'clock,"  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth  said  at  dinner,  "  and  everything  is  ready 
but  the  ice  cream.  You'll  have  to  send  up  a  man  for 
that." 

"I'd  like  to  know  what  for?"  said  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth. 

"Why,  to  freeze  it,  of  course,"  explained  his  wife. 
"  It's  awfully  hard  work  turning  the  crank  an  hour." 

"  Humph  !  "  grumbled  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  who  held 
a  man's  opinion  concerning  an  afternoon  function  ; 
"  seems  to  me  you  and  that  hired  girl  might  find  time 
to  twist  a  galvanized  iron  crank  around  a  few  minutes 
without  subjecting  me  to  extra  expense.  Want  to 
ruin  me  ?  " 

"  Ellery  Wigglesworth,"  returned  his  wife  severely, 
"  do  you  think  I'm  going  to  put  on  my  best  dress  and 
freeze  ice  cream  while  the  first  ladies  in  town  are 
arriving  every  minute  and  having  to  be  talked  to  ? " 

"  B-a-a-h-h  1 "  commented  Mr.  Wigglesworth ;  "where 

215 


Hoew  Wigglesworth 


is  this  freezer!     I'll  show  ye  how  to  coin  a  dollar." 

Down  in  the  cellar  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  had  made 
everything  ready.  There  was  the  freezer,  borrowed 
of  a  neighbor,  duly  filled  with  six  quarts  of  liquid,  and 
there  were  ice  and  salt  and  other  things  necessary. 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  loaded  the  salt  and  ice  into  the 
wooden  cylinder  and  gave  the  crank  a  few  preliminary 
revolutions. 

"  Don't  see  anything  the  matter  with  this,  do  ye  ?  " 
he  asked.  "  Don't  know's  you  like  to  have  a  dollar 
saved.  Rather  make  folks  think  ye'd  spent  a  fortune, 
prob'ly." 

Merrily  twirled  the  crank,  while  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
crowded  in  some  more  pounded  ice. 

"  Regular  picnic,  this  is,"  said  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
"  side  of  the  old  churn  I  used  to  work  when  I  was  a 
boy.  Mother  used  to  keep  me  at  it  all  the  time. 
Said  that  one  good  churn  deserves  another  —  he,  he, 
he!" 

"  What  did  she  mean  by  that  ? "  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
innocently  asked. 

"  What  did  she  mean  by  that  ? "  tartly  retorted  Mr. 
Wigglesworth,  whose  muscles  began  to  feel  it ;  "what 
does  anybody  mean  by  anything?  Can't  ye  under- 
stand a  joke  when  it 's  shown  to  ye  ? " 

"  I  don't  see  any  joke  in  your  mother  saying  that 
one  good  churn  deserves  another,"  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
persisted.  "  If  she  had  one  churn  I  should  think  that 
would  be  nice,  but  how  could  it  deserve  —  " 

"Y-a-h-hl"  said  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  grinding  sav- 
216 


Helped  His  Wife  Receive 


agely  away ;  "  what 's  the  use  to  try  and  have  any  fun 
with  you  ?  You  couldn  't  see  a  joke  if  it  was  pasted 
on  the  end  of  the  Lick  telescope.  Quit  jamming  in 
that  ice ! "  he  shouted,  as  the  machine  went  a  trifle 
harder ;  "  want  to  stop  the  thing  ? " 

"  It  ain't  me,"  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  mildly  rejoined ; 
"  it 's  the  cream  beginning  to  harden."  - 

"Great  lot  you  know  about  it ! "  grumbled  her  hus- 
band, pausing  to  wipe  the  perspiration  from  his  brow. 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  said  she  must  now  go  and 
"dress"  and  with  a  few  encouraging  words  vanished 
up  the  stairs.  Mr.  Wigglesworth  turned  on,  pausing 
now  and  then  to  mop  off  his  forehead  and  mutter 
things  to  himself. 

Every  man  of  a  weak  and  yielding  nature  who  has 
allowed  himself  —  once  —  to  be  bound  to  the  chariot 
wheels  of  the  ice-cream  freezer  can  recall  with  ghastly 
clearness  how  the  lemon-colored  mixture  on  the  in- 
terior of  the  tin  can,  after  reaching  a  certain  degree 
of  hardness,  appears  to  be  content  to  remain  there. 
Round  and  round  spun  the  handle,  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
pausing  at  intervals  to  gloomily  contemplate  the  grow- 
ing blisters  on  the  palms  of  his  hands. 

Overhead  he  could  hear  the  shuffling  of  feet  as 
visitors  arrived  and  went  stiffly  through  the  ceremonies 
of  introduction. 

"  Oh,  Ellery,"  hoarsely  wailed  Mrs.  Wigglesworth, 
rushing  half-way  down  the  stairs,  "  can't  you  hurry 
up?  Everybody's  coming  and  it's  dreadful  to  give 
them  only  tea,  and  they  looking  around  and  wonder- 

217 


Wigglesworth 


ing  what  the  table  is  for  with  dishes  on  it,  and  no  ice- 
cream 1 " 

"What  ye  s'pose  I  care?"  returned  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  wanting  to  yell,  but  forced  to  keep  his  voice 
under;  "think  I've  got  nothing  to  do  but  prance 
around  here  twisting  a  blamed  old  hand  organ  ?  You 
go  on  back  and  shake  hands  with  the  rest  of  them 
rubberneck  females,  will  ye,  and  let  me  alone  I " 

"  What  is  that  singular  rumbling  noise  ? "  asked  one 
of  the  guests,  a  little  later. 

"I  —  I  don't  hear  anything,"  faltered  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth,  forcing  a  distorted  smile  into  her  face. 

"  I  hear  something,"  said  another  guest,  a  thin,  little 
woman  with  an  inquisitive  tone.  "  Hark !  " 

The  roomful  of  ladies  congealed  into  silence.  There 
was  small  need  of  Mrs.  Wigglesworth's  dissimulation. 
From  beneath  their  feet,  muffled  by  the  carpeted  floor, 
came  a  strange  series  of  noises,  the  burr  of  machinery, 
it  might  be,  punctuated  by  a  grunting  sound  as  of  a 
railroad  engine  getting  under  way,  and  now  and  then 
a  thud  like  a  man  falling  out  of  a  balloon  and  alight- 
ing on  the  roof  of  a  Presbyterian  church. 

"  Burglars  1 "  lucidly  cried  a  fat  woman  in  a  red 
dress ;  "  they  're  boring  their  way  in  through  the  cel- 
lar wall  1 "  And  she  stood  up  in  a  chair. 

Then,  just  as  everybody  was  turning  pale  and  get- 
ting ready  to  talk  all  at  once,  the  mixture  which  for 
two  hours  had  gone  on  making  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
madder,  suddenly  went  thick,  and  the  dasher,  revolv- 
ing slower,  quickly  exhausted  his  remaining  strength. 

218 


Helped  His  Wife  Receive 


"  Gash  flummux  the  old  thing !  "  he  yelled,  losing 
all  regard  for  the  society  event  overhead ;  "  what  ails 
it  now?  "  and  he  twitched  the  machine  savagely  across 
the  cellar  floor.  "  Why  don't  ye  twist  around  here, 
same 's  ye  been  doing  since  I  tackled  ye  last  spring  ? " 
he  bellowed,  and  he  flung  it  against  the  granite  wall. 
"  Want  to  keep  me  here  grinding  this  old  crank  till 
Christmas,  don't  ye?"  and  he  knocked  down  one  of 
the  furnace  pipes  with  it.  "  But  I  want  ye  to  under- 
stand," he  howled,  in  a  finishing  blaze  of  wrath,  as  the 
falling  pipe  struck  his  head  and  emptied  a  load  of  soot 
on  him,  "  that  I  don't  propose  to  spend  my  life  in  this 
cellar  grinding  out  frozen  porridge  for  a  lot  of  females 
to  spill  all  over  a  new  spring  carpet  1 " 

And  grabbing  an  axe  he  stove  in  the  freezer's  metal- 
lic head.  To  his  surprise  he  found  the  cream  frozen 
beautifully. 


219 


Chapter  XXIV 

Hocw  Wiggle&worth 
Learned  to  Solder 


"  At  that  instant  Imogene  *  *  *  suddenly  opened  the  door 
with  a  snap  that  was  imparted  to  the  vertebrae  of  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth."  —  Page  228. 


CHAPTER    XXIV.—  How    Wiggleswortb 
Learned  to  Solder 

ELLERY,"  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  as  her 
husband  was  leaving  the  table,  "  I  wish 
you'd  take  the  tea  kettle  along  with  you." 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  stayed  the  tooth- 
pick halfway  to  his  mouth,  and  gave  utterance  to  a 
stare. 

"What  would  I  be  taking  a  tea  kettle  along  with 
me  for?"  he  asked  coldly.  "Think  I'm  going  to 
have  a  five  o'clock  slander  meeting  at  the  office  ? 
Reckon  I'm  a  female  sewing  circle,  don't  ye  ?" 

"  I  mean,"  explained  his  wife,  "  that  you  take  it  to 
the  tin  shop  and  have  the  handle  mended.  It's  so 
loose  that  Imogene  scalds  her  hand  every  time  she 
touches  it." 

"Well,"  retorted  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  "she  hadn't 
ought  to  touch  her  hand  if  that's  the  way  it  acts." 

Winking  humorously  at  himself  in  the  glass  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  set  out  for  the  office.  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  sighed,  as  women  will.  Also  she  wondered 
how  many  times  more  she  would  have  to  mention  the 
kettle  before  her  husband  would  get  mad  enough  to 
take  it  along  with  him. 

Women  who  have  husbands  of  their  own  can  join 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth  in  this  speculation. 

"There!"  said  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  with  an  air  of 
importance  on  coming  home  to  dinner,  "  there's  some- 

223 


Hoew  Wigglesworth 


thing  that'll  save  us  hundreds  of  dollars  in  the  course 
of  a  year,"  and  he  laid  a  long,  narrow  pasteboard  box 
on  the  table. 

"  It's  a  soldering  outfit,"  he  explained,  taking  off 
the  cover.  "  Here's  the  iron  and  the  solder  and  the 
rosum,  and  the  whole  business." 

Mrs.  Wiggleswooth  clapped  her  hands. 

"O-o-o-o-h-h  1 "  she  screamed  in  a  lengthened  note 
of  admiration,  "  won't  that  be  ever  so  nice !  And  you 
can  mend  the  tea  kettle,  can't  you,  Ellery  ? " 

"  Of  course  I  can,"  returned  Mr.  Wigglesworth  in 
a  comprehensive  manner.  "  What  ye  s'pose  I  got  it 
for  —  to  raise  bread  with?  Think  I'm  going  to  set 
hens  with  it,  don't  ye  ? " 

"I'm  sure  it  will  be  ever  so  splendid,"  assented  his 
wife  as  she  served  the  gravy. 

"  Only  cost  a  dollar,"  pursued  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
"  and  there's  solder  enough  there  to  mend  a  cartload 
of  things.  I'll  bet  I'll  save  nine  or  ten  dollars  in 
mending  this  year.  These  tin  knockers  tuck  the 
charges  right  to  a  fellow  when  they  get  a  chance." 

"Of  course  they  do,"  chimed  in  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth.  "The  only  way  to  be  economical  is  to  save 
in  these  directions.  I  remember  that  Uncle  Horace, 
who  had  such  long  whiskers — you  remember,  Ellery 
—  used  to  say  that  he  had  probably  saved  over  two 
thousand  dollars  in  his  lifetime  by  not  shaving." 

"H'm!"  answered  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  who  wasn't 
interested  in  having  his  wife's  relatives  brought  into 
his  household  economics,  "  seeing  as  he  never  had  a 

234 


Learned  to  Solder 


cent  while  he  lived,  and  then  died  poor,  I  don't  see  as 
that  cuts  any  ice." 

"It's  the  principle  of  the  thing  that  I  look  at," 
said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  shaking  her  head. 

"Great  lots  you  know  about  it,"  girded  her  hus- 
band. "They'll  be  hearing  of  you  in  Washington 
next,  and  telegraphing  you  to  come  on  and  superin- 
tend a  bond  issue.  Where 's  this  kettle  you  've  been 
making  such  a  fuss  about?  Why  don't  ye  have  it 
out  here  if  you  want  it  mended? " 

Sailing  into  the  kitchen  in  his  impulsive  manner 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  saw  the  kettle  on  the  stove  and 
caught  it  up  quickly — in  fact  before  his  wife's  word 
of  caution  could  avail.  It  was  a  round,  fat  kettle, 
with  a  saucy  little  nose,  and  the  loose  handle  pre- 
viously indicated,  which,  as  it  felt  Mr.  Wigglesworth's 
hasty  grasp,  gave  vent  to  a  low,  sputtering  laugh, 
and  slipped  out  of  its  fastening.  A  hot  spurt  of 
water  instantly  unloaded  upon  Mr.  Wigglesworth's 
knees. 

"  Wow !  "  yelled  that  gentleman,  grabbing  himself 
by  the  legs  and  limping  about  the  kitchen  ;  "I'm 
scalt  —  my  leg's  burnt  to  a  crisp!  What  fool  left 
that  boiling  water  with  such  a  handle  as  that  on  it?" 

"  It's  the  way  it  has  been  for  several  weeks,"  ex- 
claimed Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  "Imogene  has  been 
burned  twenty  times." 

"  What  ye  s'pose  I  care  for  your  Imogenes  ? "  snorted 
Mr.  Wigglesworth.  "  I'll  bet  five  dollars  she  left  it 
there  on  purpose  to  scald  me." 

225 


H<yw  Wigglesworth 


Several  minutes  of  limping  and  growling  sufficed 
to  bring  him  back  to  the  business  in  hand.  The 
kettle  was  emptied,  and  then  taken  to  the  sink,  and 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth  bidden  to  steady  it. 

"  It  —  it's  awfully  hot,"  she  said,  touching  the 
kettle  gingerly  with  her  hands. 

"Poh!"  retorted  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  "what  if  it  is? 
Can't  ye  stand  a  little  thing  like  that  for  the  sake  of 
saving  a  few  dollars  ? " 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  read  the  directions  over  carefully 
and  rolled  up  his  sleeves.  Having  previously  removed 
his  shoes  and  put  on  dry  stockings,  he  felt  himself,  in 
his  stocking  feet,  to  be  in  particularly  good  working 
order. 

"This  is  something  like  it,"  he  said,  flourishing  the 
soldering  iron.  He  owned  to  a  passing  feeling  of 
regret  that  all  the  tin  dishes  in  the  house  were  n't  in 
need  of  repairs. 

First  he  sprinkled  some  rosin  over  the  severed  ends 
of  the  tea  kettle's  handle. 

"  What 's  that  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Wigglesworth. 

"  Rosum,"  curtly  replied  her  husband ;  "  wha'  d  'ye 
think  it  was  —  fig  paste?  Thought  it  was  vanilla 
soup,  didn't  ye?" 

"What  is  it  for?"  pursued  Mrs.  Wigglesworth. 

"What  is  it  for?"  repeated  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
thrusting  the  iron  into  the  cook-stove  fire,  "  wha'  d'ye 
s 'pose  ? " 

"  I  did  n't  know,"  answered  his  wife  meekly. 

"Well,  who  said  ye  did?"  retorted  Mr.  Wiggles- 
226 


Learned  to  Solder 


worth    smartly,  and  there  Mrs.  Wiggles  worth's  first 
lesson  in  chemistry  ended. 

Forth  from  the  fire  came  the  iron,  red  hot.  Hold- 
ing the  bar  of  solder  in  one  hand,  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
applied  the  iron  to  it,  and  presently  bright  drops  of 
the  melted  mettle  poured  down  upon  the  kettle.  Some 
of  them  striking  the  handle  jarred  off  the  rosin  and 
then  sprang  merrily  for  the  back  of  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth's  hand. 

"  Oh  !  oh  !  oh  !  "  screamed  that  lady,  promptly 
releasing  the  kettle  and  thrusting  her  hand  into  her 
mouth. 

"Wha'  d'ye  want  to  do  that  for?"  shouted  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  in  a  burst  of  anger. 

"I  — I  didn't  do  anything,"  sniffed  his  wife. 
"Yes,    ye   did,  too,"  growled   Mr.    Wigglesworth. 
"  You  went  and  let  go  your  hold  and  jerked  the  handle 
apart.       How   d'ye    suppose  I  can  mend  a  thing  in 
that  way  ? " 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  steadfastly  refusing  to  lend  an- 
other hand,  and  Imogene  having  long  since  sought 
refuge  on  the  back  stairs,  Mr.  Wigglesworth  with  a 
muttered  remark  took  the  kettle  in  his  lap,  adjusted 
the  erring  handle,  applied  his  rosin  and  brought  the 
heated  iron  once  more  into  contact  with  the  solder. 

It  was  a  moment  of  intense  interest.  From  the 
pantry  door  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  hand  in  mouth,  looked 
on  in  a  species  of  fascination. 

Above  the  smoking  iron  bent  the  inflamed  coun- 
tenance of  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  his  eyes  bulging  out 

227 


H&w  Wigglesworth 


and  his  breathing  labored.  All  other  sounds  were 
stilled  and  the  clock  on  the  wall  ticked  ominously. 

Then  the  mass  of  solder,  held  with  painful  careful- 
ness, reached  its  melting  point.  At  that  instant 
Imogene,  from  her  retreat  on  the  back  stairs,  fancying 
by  the  stillness  that  the  coast  was  clear,  suddenly 
opened  the  door  with  a  snap  that  was  imparted  to  the 
vertebrae  of  Mr.  Wigglesworth.  In  a  flash  the  liquid 
metal  slipped  out  of  his  grasp  and  with  the  instinct 
of  gravitation  dropped  upon  Mr.  Wigglesworth's  stock- 
ings. 

Hired  girls  may  come  and  hired  girls  may  go,  and 
tne  last  one,  quite  down  to  the  end  of  time,  will  be 
able  to  point  out  to  visitors  the  dent  in  the  ceiling 
which,  it  is  alleged,  was  made  by  the  head  of  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  when,  with  a  blood-stopping  shriek,  he 
vaulted  from  his  chair. 

"You're  a  daisy,  ain't  ye?"  he  yelled  some  time 
later  as  he  sat  with  his  feet  in  the  bathtub  while  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth  prowled  around  in  the  attic  for  some 
cotton  batting ;  "  the  next  time  you  want  any  econo- 
mizing done,  you  better  send  for  Uncle  Horace  and 
let  him  take  his  flowing  whiskers  and  do,  it."  And 
he  ran  on  for  nearly  an  hour  in  this  fashion. 

Next  day  Imogene  took  the  kettle  to  the  tinman 
and  waited  while  he  soldered  on  the  handle.  The  bill 
was  ten  cents. 

"But  you  needn't  say  anything  to  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth  about  it,"  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth. 

Imogene  shook  her  head. 

228 


Chapter  XXV 

H&w  Wigglesworth 
Endured  Sickness 


"'Going  to  let  me  perish  here  in  the  dark?'  he  snapped : 
where 's  that  fat-headed  doctor? '  "—Page  236, 


CHAPTER  XXV.  —  H&w    Wiggles<worth    En- 
dured Sickness 

WHEN  Mr.  Wigglesworth  came  home  to 
dinner  he  found  his  wife  on  the  lounge 
with  a  blanket  spread  over  her  and  her 
head  enveloped  in  a  shawl.  There  was 
a  large  bowl  of  homemade  medicine  on  a  chair  by  her 
side  and  an  expression  of  misery  upon  her  face  that 
cast  a  gloom  over  the  whole  lower  part  of  the  house. 

"What  ails  ye  now?  "  asked  Mr.  Wigglesworth  in 
the  sympathetic  tone  that  a  man  assumes  toward  his 
wife  whose  sickness  he  looks  upon  as  an  infringement 
of  his  own  prerogatives. 

"I — I  think  I've  got  the  grip,"  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  answered  faintly.  "It's  been  coming  on  all 
the  morning,  and  I  just  had  to  lie  down.  I've  got  the 
awfullest  pain  in  my  back  and  my  head  aches  fit  to 
split. 

"  Pooh ! "  said  Mr.  Wigglesworth  ;  "that 's  just  like 
a  woman.  Least  little  thing  she  thinks  she's  dying ! " 

"I  guess  you  wouldn't  enjoy  it,"  sighed  his  wife, 
"  if  you  ached  all  over  as  I  do." 

"Wouldn't  like  it?  Well,  probably  I  wouldn't," 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  retorted  loftily,  "  but  I  don't  think 
I'd  run  all  over  town  bawling  about  it.  What's  the 
use  of  being  a  grown-up  woman  if  you  can't  stand  a 
little  pain?  'Taint  for  long  anyway,  and  the  only 
thing  to  do  is  to  brace  up  and  bear  it  like  a  man  ? " 

231 


Haw  Wiggtesivorth 


With  the  enunciation  of  which  beautiful  philosophy 
Mr.  Wiggles  worth  sat  down  to  dinner  while  his  wife 
clung  to  the  lounge  and  sipped  the  villainous  home- 
made concoction  out  of  the  bowl. 

"  I  wish  you  'd  step  into  the  doctor's,"  she  said 
feebly,  as  her  husband,  after  telling  her  to  "  take  care 
of  herself,"  was  starting  for  the  office ;  "  I  ought  to 
have  him  at  once,  before  this  thing  gets  a  start." 

"  That's  it  1 "  grumbled  Mr.  Wigglesworth  ;  "  first 
little  kink  in  the  neck,  run  for  the  doctor !  When  I 
was  a  boy  mother  used  to  doctor  the  whole  family  of 
us  a  year  on  a  few  cents'  worth  of  herbs.  What's  the 
use  to  call  in  an  old  muttonhead  of  a  doctor  and  pay 
him  two  dollars  for  pulling  your  tongue  out  on  your 
chin  and  peering  into  it  and  looking  wise  ?  What  you 
want  to  do  is  to  lay  there  and  take  a  good  sweat  and 
you'll  be  all  right,  I'll  bet  a  cookie." 

Whether  Mr.  Wiggles  worth's  prescription  was  the 
thing  required,  or  his  wife  was  less  ill  than  she  had 
believed  herself  to  be,  it  was  a  fact  that  when  he 
came  home  to  supper  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  was  moving 
about  the  house,  rather  tottery  in  the  knees,  but  still 
on  deck  and  ready  for  action. 

"What'd  I  tell  you?"  her  husband  triumphantly 
cried.  "All  that  these  little  attacks  need  is  some 
will  power  and  —  woof!  they're  gone.  That's  what 
mother  always  used  to  say,  and  she  knew  more  about 
doctoring  than  the  man  that  got  it  up." 

Out  of  deference  to  his  wife's  illness  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth  magnanimously  occupied  the  spare  bedroom,  so 

232 


Endured  Sickness 


that  she  might  "have  a  good  night's  rest,"  he  said. 
So  also  could  he,  although  he  didn't  mention  this 
fact. 

Night  trailed  her  sable  wings  over  the  city,  and 
even  reached  for  a  considerable  distance  out  into  the 
suburbs.  The  stars,  marshalled  in  glittering  array, 
shone  frostily  in  the  heavens  and  winked  at  the  wick- 
edness which  for  so  many  centuries,  even  as  tonight, 
they  had  looked  down  upon.  Wrapped  in  peaceful 
slumber  the  honest  folk  of  the  town  waited  the  com- 
ing of  another  day  with  its  cark  and  care,  and  the  re- 
currence of  unsettled  accounts.  Peace  was  within  the 
borders,  and  even  rested  upon  the  walls  of  Wiggles- 
worth  as  the  midnight  bell  sent  its  slow  clangor  quiv- 
ering into  the  air.  Mrs.  Wiggles  worth  at  that  instant 
was  dreaming  —  dreaming  that  Imogene  had  fallen 
out  of  the  window  and  landed  two  miles  below  upon  a 
marble  floor.  Never  she  said  to  the  neighbors  after- 
wards, had  she  heard  such  dreadful  groans  emanate 
from  any  hired  girl  —  and  then  she  became  slowly 
conscious  that  the  groans  were  in  the  next  room,  and 
that  Mr.  Wigglesworth  was  the  author  and  projector 
thereof.  In  another  moment  she  was  out  by  his  bed- 
side. 

"  Dearest  Ellery ! "  she  said,  "  what  is  the  matter  ? " 

"  O-o-o-h-h-h  ! "  moaned  Mr.  Wigglesworth  in  a  sep- 
ulchral tone,  of  tremulo  quality;  "I'm  dying  —  I'm 
dying!"  and  he  shivered  alarmingly. 

"Tell  me  what  it  is,"  cried  his  wife,  dropping  by 
the  bedside.  "  Oh,  my  darling  Ellery,  do  not  go  on 

333 


Wiggles(worth 


like  that  —  your  groans  are  frightful.  Tell  your  own 
wifey  what  it  is!" 

"Emma"   —Mr.  Wigglesworth  faintly  began. 

"Yes  —  yes,  darling,"  his  wife  answered,  "I'm 
here  —  close  by  your  side  —  what  is  it  I  can  do?" 

"  Emma,"  Mr.  Wigglesworth  repeated,  solemnly, 
"I  am  in  a  dreadful  condition  —  suffering  terrible." 

"Oh,  I  know  it,  I  know  it,"  wailed  his  wife.  "Tell 
me  what  it  is,  so  I  can  do  something  for  you." 

"I  don't  believe  there  is  anything  can  be  done," 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  said,  in  a  hollow  voice ;  "  I  Ve  felt 
this  coming  on  for  a  long  time." 

"And  never  told  me  ?  "  sobbed  his  wife. 

"  Hush ! "  Mr.  Wigglesworth  said,  fetching  another 
groan  that  rattled  the  water  pitcher  ;  "  I  Ve  got  shoot- 
ing pains  through  me,  and  my  legs  are  all  broke  out 
in  cold  perspiration.  The  sheets  are  all  wet  with  it. 
Feel  of  my  hand." 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  caught  it  up.  It  seemed  much 
like  any  hand,  so  far  as  she  could  distinguish  in  the 
dark. 

"  Don't  it  feel  hot  ? "  her  husband  groaned. 

"  It  —  it  does  seem  to  be  that  way,"  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  assented. 

"  Seem  to  be ! "  sniffed  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  with  a 
touch  of  his  old  manner ;  "  it's  fairly  sizzling  I  " 

"  I  see  it  is  now,"  his  wife  hastened  to  add. 

"But  oh,  this  back  —  this  backl"  moaned  Mr. 
Wigglesworth. 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  sprang  to  her  feet. 

234 


Endured  Sickness 


"  Something  must  be  done  at  once ! "  she  exclaimed, 
and  tottering  to  the  bureau,  she  broke  the  lamp 
chimney. 

"  That's  the  way ! "  cried  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  in- 
terrupting one  of  the  groans ;  "  get  the  chimney 
where  I  can  put  my  bare  feet  on  it  when  I  get  up  to 
die  in  a  chair  !  " 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  hastily  brought  the  lamp  from 
her  own  room,  and  its  cheerful  rays  served  to  dispel 
much  of  the  gloom  from  the  sick  apartment.  Her 
husband's  face  was  knotted  with  agony.  His  feverish 
tossing  had  disarranged  the  long  hair  that  by  day  he 
wore  carefully  combed  from  his  left  ear  up  over  the 
top  of  his  head,  and  his  bald  top  gleamed  forth 
bravely.  With  the  coming  of  the  light  his  spirits 
rose  perceptibly. 

"  Going  to  do  anything  tonight  ? "  he  said,  with  a 
show  of  asperity.  "  Going  to  let  me  lie  here  and 
perish,  I  s'pose,  seeing's  my  life  insurance  has  n't  run 
out." 

"  But  what  shall  I  do  ? "  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  said, 
with  a  little  helpless  wringing  of  her  hands. 

"  Do !  "  exclaimed  her  husband,  letting  his  sarcastic 
side  flicker  above  the  solemnity  of  the  occasion; 
"  why  not  send  my  symptoms  to  the  British  Medical 
Journal  and  get  an  answer  to  correspondents  ?  How 
would  it  do  to  forward  a  lock  of  my  hair  to  Mme. 
Ruppert,  and  have  a  diagnosis  of  the  case,  with  a 
horoscope  for  the  future  and  directions  how  to  break 
up  a  setting  hen  ?  Go  look  in  the  rear  end  of  your 

235 


How  Wiggles(worth 


scrap-book,  can't   ye,  and   find   out    something   that 
ain't  so  ?     What 's  the  use " 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  was  running  on  in  this  fashion 
to  usual  length,  when  a  recollection  of  his  pains 
smote  him,  and  he  sank  back  with  a  groan,  before 
whose  awfulness  his  preceding  groans  were  quite  lost 
sight  of.  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  sobbed  aloud. 

"  Sha'n't  I  make  a  mustard  plaster  and  put  it  on 
your  back?"  she  cried. 

"  Anything,  anything !  "  moaned  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
and  his  wife  tottered  down  into  the  kitchen,  arousing 
Imogene  on  the  way,  and  with  what  speed  they  were 
capable  of  they  built  a  fire  and  had  water  boiling,  while 
ever  the  curdling  moans  of  the  suffering  Wigglesworth 
found  their  way  along  the  back  hall  and  corkscrewed 
down  the  kitchen  stairs,  freezing  their  feminine  blood 
and  stimulating  them  to  redoubled  action. 

When  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  came  back  into  the  room 
with  the  plaster  held  out  straight  before  her  and  giv- 
ing forth  a  pungent  odor,  Mr.  Wigglesworth  was 
thrashing  to  and  fro  and  growling  loudly. 

"Going  to  let  me  perish  here  in  the  dark?"  he 
snapped;  "  where 's  that  fat-headed  (doctor?" 

"I  —  I  didn't  send  for  the  doctor,"  his  wife  stam- 
mered ;  "  did  you  want  one  ? " 

"  Oh,  of  course  not  I "  spluttered  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
looking  up  at  the  ceiling ;  "  no  need  of  a  doctor  for 
me !     What 's   the  good  of  having  a  doctor  for  old 
Wigglesworth  ?    Let  him  die  —  that 's  the  best  way  — 
let  him  R.  I.  P.,  and  we'll  have  the  insurance;  that's 

236 


Endured  Sickness 


what  we  '11  have.  Think  you  're  going  to  have  a  warm 
time,  don't  ye,  waltzing  round  on  a  widder's  dower  ? 
S'pose  ye  think  —  what  ye  got  there  ?  " 

"  It 's  the  mustard  plaster,"  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  ex- 
plained. She'd  been  holding  it  straight  in  front  of 
her  for  five  minutes. 

"  What  ye  going  to  do  with  it  ? "  her  husband  asked 
suspiciously,  drawing  down  under  the  bedclothes. 

"  If  you  —  you  will  let  me  put  it  on  your  back," 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth  pleaded,  "it  will  draw  out  the 
pain." 

"Wow!" 

This  was  a  yell,  so  shrill,  so  loud,  that  Mrs.  Wig- 
glesworth, in  alarm,  dropped  the  mustard  plaster  to 
the  floor.  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  in  drawing  under  the 
coverlid,  as  his  wife  approached  the  bed,  had  lashed 
out  with  both  feet,  and  the  yell  was  his. 

"  There's    something   in   the   bed !  "    he    howled  ; 
"there's  a  blamed  old  dead  cat  in  the  bed,  and  I've. 
mashed  my  feet    on   her !     The  blood's  running  all 
over  everything ! " 

With  another  shriek  Mr.  Wigglesworth  was  out  on 
the  floor,  one  foot  in  the  middle  of  the  mustard  plas- 
ter. Giving  vent  to  a  special  yell  on  this  account,  he 
vaulted  into  the  hall,  wearing  the  plaster  with  him. 
Imogene,  who  had  stolen  near  the  door  for  the  pur- 
pose of  hearing  Mr.  Wiggles  worth's  remarks  with 
more  clearness,  saw  him  coming,  and  fetching  a  whoop 
she  scuttled  for  the  back  stairs,  down  which  she  fell 
in  two  distinct  bumps,  dove  under  the  refrigerator 
and  stayed  there. 

237 


Endured  Sickness 


Mrs.  Wigglesworth's  first  inclination  was  to  faint, 
but  in  the  bustle  and  confusion  of  going  to  press  she 
neglected  to  do  so.  Instead  she  turned  her  attention 
to  the  bed  and  there  she  found  the  rubber  water  bottle. 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth  remembered  that  the  day  before 
she  had  put  it  in  the  bed,  expecting  a  guest  who  did 
not  come,  and  where  it  had  been  forgotten:  During 
the  night,  her  husband,  in  his  sleep,  had  somehow 
unloosed  the  stopper,  and  the  water  had  leaked  out  of 
it. 

"  Oh,  Ellery !  "  she  joyfully  cried,  as  she  saw  what 
the  trouble  was. 

"  Don't  Ellery  me  1 "  snarled  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
coming  out  of  the  bathroom  and  vengefully  slapping 
the  remains  of  the  mustard  plaster  against  the  wall  ; 
"  you  think  it  mighty  smart,  every  time  I  have  a  little 
ache  or  pain,  to  come  snuffing  round  and  trying  to 
make  out  I'm  sick,  so  you  can  work  off  some  of  your 
blamed  old  fool  receipts  on  me,  but  I  want  you  to 
understand  that  I  don't  propose  to  act  as  no  lay  figure 
for  you  to  start  your  old  emergency  hospitals  with,  and 
the  sooner  you  find  it  out  the  quicker  it  will  be  for 
you  1  " 

And  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  explained  to  the  neigh- 
bors who  came  in  to  lift  the  refrigerator  off  Imogene, 
that  really  she  never  had  known  a  mustard  plaster  to 
work  more  efficaciously. 


238 


Chapter  XXVI 

HCHV   Wiggles<worth 
Kept  Thanksgiving 


"  '  And  then  he  grabbed  it  in  his  teeth      Roscoe,  did  you 
understand  ?'"  —  Page  245, 


CHAPTER   XXVI.— How  Wigglesworth  Kept 
Thanksgiving  *Day 


I 


they  are,"  cried  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth,  who  for  the  past  hour  had  been 
peering  anxiously  through  the  window. 
The  front  door  bothered  somewhat 
in  opening,  so  by  the  time  she  had  got  down  the  walk, 
Aunt  and  Uncle  Chesterfield  were  unloaded  from  the 
North  Jayville  stage  and  striving,  with  the  somewhat 
emphatic  help  of  the  driver,  to  get  their  large  bundles 
through  the  gateway. 

"  So  glad  to  see  you ! "  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  said,  as 
they  bustled  up  the  steps.  "  Oh,  whose  dog  is  that  ?  " 

"Drat  him!"  piped  Uncle  Chesterfield,  dropping 
two  or  three  bundles  as  the  dog  collided  with  his  legs 
—  Uncle  Chesterfield's  legs,  "  it 's  that  ornery  cur  of 
Reuben's.  I  told  'em  to  tie  him  up,  but  I  declare  ef 
he  ain't  f ollered  us  plumb  inter  town ! " 

It  was  a  tall  dog  of  a  weak  drab  shade  and  legs 
that  sprawled  and  shambled  more  than  seemed  neces- 
sary. He  plunged  into  the  vestibule  and,  backing  into 
a  corner,  hung  several  inches  of  crimson  tongue  out 
on  his  chin  and  scuffed  an  aimless  tail  back  and  forth 
with  much  rapidity.  Just  then  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
opened  the  door,  and  the  dog  shot  into  the  house, 
flinging  that  startled  gentleman  violently  into  the  par- 
lor portieres. 

"  Get  out  1 "  shouted  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  clawing  the 

241 


How  Wiggles<worth 


portieres  violently  from  about  his  neck.     "Take  that 
dog  out  of  the  house  —  whose  is  it  —  what  ye  doing  ?  " 

"  It 's  Uncle  Chesterfield's  dog,"  explained  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth,  coming  to  her  husband's  aid,  while  the 
guests  stood  in  the  door,  shedding  bundles. 

"  I  don't  care  if  it  is  1 "  retorted  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
finding  his  way  out  of  the  clinging  curtains;  "you 
need  'nt  set  him  on  to  me  1 " 

This  was  not  a  very  auspicious  reception  for  the 
relatives  who  had  taken  the  long  and  bumpy  stage 
drive  for  the  purpose  of  spending  Thanksgiving  Day 
in  the  city,  but  Mr.  Wigglesworth  finally  gulped  down 
his  wrath  and  helped  his  wife  relieve  the  guests  of 
their  wraps  and  the  things  they  had  brought  along 
tied  up  in  back  numbers  of  the  local  paper. 

The  tall  dog  was  taken  in  hand  by  Imogene  and, 
after  a  struggle,  shut  up  in  the  shed.  He  was  a 
quite  strong  dog  named  Roscoe.  He  was  named,  so 
Aunt  Emmeline  said,  for  a  nephew  who  formerly 
visited  the  Black  Hills  during  a  mining  excitement, 
and  subsequently  fell  down  a  shaft,  dashing  in  the  top 
of  his  head  as  he  did  so. 

"  Now,  you  make  yourselves  right  at  home,"  bustled 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth  with  great  cordiality,  "because  I 
shall  be  busy  helping  Imogene  in  the  kitchen.  Ellery, 
you  see  that  Aunt  and  Uncle  don't  get  lonesome,  and 
I  '11  have  dinner  just  as  soon  as  it  is  ready." 

So  she  vanished  from  the  room,  while  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth  put  his  hands  in  his  pockets  and  assumed  the 
gloomy  expression  that  the  city  man  acquires  when 
his  wife's  rural  relatives  are  left  to  his  protection. 

242 


Kept  Thanksgiving  Day 


"  How 's  polertics  down  this  way  ? "  shrilled  Uncle 
Chesterfield. 

He  was  a  little,  dried  man  with  a  wrinkled  face  and 
not  any  teeth  to  speak  of.  He  wore  a  long  black  coat 
with  only  one  button,  and  that  caught  into  the  wrong 
buttonhole,  giving  the  collar  a  rakish  appearance,  and 
he  sat  straight  up  in  the  only  uncomfortable  chair  in 
the  room  and  could  be  persuaded  to  use  no  other. 
Moreover,  he  steadily  refused  to  take  off  his  rubbers. 

"  They  ain't  no  two  ways  about  this  silver  question," 
he  pursued,  shaking  his  head,  while  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
shifted  uneasily  on  the  sofa ;  "  ef  Conguss  don't  take 
things  in  hand  and  give  us  free  silver,  you  kin  reckon 
on  one  thing,  shore." 

Uncle  Chesterfield  was  imbued  with  a  perfectly 
ferocious  array  of  statistics,  and  these  with  infinite 
oraculousness  he  now  delivered  himself  of,  while  Aunt 
Emmeline  maintained  a  steady  knitting  and  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth glowered  savagely  at  an  engraving  depicting 
Daniel  Webster  in  the  enviable  condition  of  a  dying 
bed. 

"What  ye  doing,  anyway?"  he  exclaimed,  bursting 
into  the  kitchen  some  time  later ;  "  ain't  ye  going  to 
have  this  dinner  today,  and  be  done  with  it  ? " 

"  Oh,  don't  bother  me,  I  beg  of  you,  Ellery,"  im- 
plored Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  red  with  heat  and  hurry. 

"Bother  you!"  sniffed  Mr.  Wigglesworth  scorn- 
fully, "  what 's  bothering  you  ?  Think  I  'm  going  to 
stay  in  there  all  the  week  watching  that  old  fossil 
work  his  chin  whiskers  up  and  down  the  scenery? 

243 


How  Wigglesworth 


Think  I  'm  a  candidate,  don't  ye,  and  can  stand  any- 
thing ? " 

When  they  got  down  to  the  table,  which  feat  was 
eventually  accomplished,  Mr.  Wigglesworth  was  far 
from  being  in  a  hilarious  condition. 

"What  ails  this  knife?"  he  growled,  making  a  pass 
at  the  turkey  with  it. 

"  Don't  slop  it  on  the  tablecloth,"  observed  his  wife. 

The  man  has  yet  to  be  born  who  can  have  this 
thing  said  to  him  by  a  woman  and  preserve  a  calm 
exterior,  and  yet  women  go  on  saying  it  as  often  as 
men  stand  up  to  carve.  Mr.  Wigglesworth  paused 
long  enough  to  freeze  his  wife  with  a  look,  and  then 
lunged  once  more  at  the  dark-brown  bird  before  him. 

"  Who  picked  out  this  rubber  one  ? "  he  puffed, 
jabbing  viciously  with  the  fork ;  "  must  have  bought 
it  yourself  with  the  aid  of  a  book.  Hints  on  How  to 
get  Up  a  Game  Dinner,  by  Mrs.  Wigglesworth." 

With  such  vocal  accompaniment,  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
succeeded  in  detaching  a  variety  of  fragments  from 
the  turkey,  while  the  guests  protected  themselves  as 
well  as  possible  with  their  napkins.  The  meal  pro- 
gressed in  silence,  for  it  had  been  a  long  ride  and 
Uncle  Chesterfield  was  nearly  empty. 

Then  Imogene  brought  in  the  pudding.  It  was  a 
pudding  into  which  the  very  heart  of  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  had  been  knit,  and  the  face  of  that  worthy  lady 
glowed  with  anxious  pride. 

"  Now  the  sauce,  Imogene,"  she  commanded. 

It  was  a  sweet  and  savory  sauce  of  starchy  color, 
244 


Kept  Thanksgiving  Day 


and  it  had  stood  on  the  stove  all  through  the  pro- 
tracted dinner.  Imogene  sailed  into  the  room  with 
the  bowl  carefully  balanced  in  her  hand.  It  was 
claimed  afterward  that  she  perfectly  well  knew  that 
Roscoe  had  slipped  through  the  kitchen  door  and  was 
hidden  behind  the  stove,  but  if  this  is  true  she  had 
momentarily  forgotten  it,  until  on  the  instant  when 
that  nervous  animal  sighted  Uncle  Chesterfield  at  the 
table,  with  a  shiny  face  beaming  above  his  napkin. 

Giving  utterance  to  a  glad  cry  of  recognition,  Roscoe 
vaulted  into  the  apartment  at  the  very  instant  of 
Imogene's  arrival  with  the  sauce.  In  a  flash  Imogene 
was  in  the  air  and  the  fiery  sauce  had  emptied  itself 
over  Uncle  Chesterfield. 

People  on  their  way  to  the  football  game  heard  the 
yell  that  burst  from  the  throat  of  Uncle  Chesterfield, 
and  quickened  their  pace,  thinking  the  game  must  be 
in  progress,  and  fearful  from  the  noise  that  they  must 
be  losing  the  very  best  part  of  it. 

"  But,  oh,  dear,"  complained  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  in 
rehearsing  the  scene  next  day  to  the  minister's  wife, 
"you  never  saw  anything  so  dreadful  as  dear  old 
Uncle  was,  with  the  sauce  running  down  his  brown 
hair,  which  isn  't  his  own,  you  know,  but  a  wig  that 
he 's  worn  since  he  was  a  young  man,  and  of  course, 
outgrown,  and  it  ran  all  down  his  collar  —  I  mean  the 
sauce — and  then  Roscoe  jumped  on  his  neck  —  I 
mean  Uncle  Chesterfield's  neck  —  and  it  came  off  - 
I  mean  the  wig  did  —  and  then  he  grabbed  it  in  his 
teeth  —  Roscoe  did,  you  understand,  for  of  course 

245 


Kept  Thanksgiving  Day 


Uncle  Chesterfield  hasn't  any,  being  so  old,  and  he 
ran  all  over  the  house,  with  Ellery  kicking  him  — 
kicking  Roscoe  I  mean  —  and  Uncle  Chesterfield  just 
standing  there  in  the  floor,  yelling  and  looking  bald, 
and  me  and  Aunt  Emmeline  wiping  the  sauce  off  him 
with  our  napkins!" 

And  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  shuddered  at  the  recol- 
lection. 


246 


Chapter  XXVII 

Hcnv  Wigglesworth 
Shoveled  Off 


Petrified,  the  minister  stood  on  the  walk."  —  Page  253. 


CHAPTER  XXVII.—  Haw   Wigglesworth 
Shovelled  Off 


f  ~"^HE  heavy  fall  of  snow  at  night  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  thaw  next  morning,  so  that 
when  Mr.  Wigglesworth  came  home  at 
noon  he  found  his  wife  in  a  flutter. 

"  Oh,  dear  me  ! "  wailed  that  lady  on  the  instant  of 
her  husband's  appearance. 

Husbands  love  to  be  greeted  thus  on  coming  home 
to  dinner.  It  appears  to  give  their  appetite  an  added 
zest. 

"What's  the  matter  now?"  said  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  coldly,  as  he  plucked  off  his  coat. 

"Matter  enough,"  replied  his  wife,  severely,  "with 
that  kitchen  roof  leaking  again  and  ruining  the  plas- 
tering. You  promised  to  send  up  a  man  to  have  it 
fixed." 

"  Oh,  of  course,"  retorted  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  as  he 
washed  his  hands  with  angry  emphasis,  "  lay  it  onto 
me.  Think  I've  nothing  better  to  do  than  to  go 
prancing  round  after  carpenters  with  warts  on  their 
hands?" 

"There's  oceans  of  snow  up  there  still,"  com- 
plained Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  "  and  it  will  be  awful  to 
have  it  all  run  down  through  the  plastering." 

"  Well,  why  don't  you  clean  it  off,  then,"  said  Mr. 
Wigglesworth,  testily. 

"Ellery  Wigglesworth,"  said  his  wife,  sternly,  "do 

249 


Hoew  Wigglesworth 


you  think  I  'm  going  to  take  a  shovel  at  my  time  of 
life  and  clean  off  a  kitchen  roof?" 

"Pooh!"  sniffed  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  looking  redly 
out  of  the  towel,  "  What's  that  to  do  ?  Ain't  it  worth 
while  to  save  a  little  money  when  there 's  a  chance  ? " 

Shortly  afterwards  the  woman  next  door  observed 
the  form  of  Mr.  Wigglesworth  laboredly  lowering 
itself  from  a  chamber  window  down  to  the  sloping  and 
snow  encumbered  roof  of  the  kitchen  addition.  The 
woman  next  door  was  without  a  hired  girl,  and  the 
dinner  dishes  were  cooling  in  the  washpan,  but  clearly 
her  duty  lay  at  the  window,  and  there  she  remained, 
her  eyes  fastened  upon  the  roof  of  the  Wigglesworth 
kitchen. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth,  after  a  number  of  painful  mo- 
tions with  his  legs  got  his  feet  fixed  on  the  roof,  with 
his  hands  still  clinging  to  the  ledge  of  the  chamber 
window. 

"  Why  don't  you  hand  out  that  shovel  ?  "  he  cried 
in  a  hoarse  voice  ;  "  think  I  want  to  stand  out  here 
all  day,  looking  like  a  gash-flummuxed  old  flying 
machine  ? " 

Then  the  head  of  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  appeared  at 
the  window. 

"  Shall  I  reach  it  down  to  you  ? "  she  asked  in  a 
soothing  tone. 

"  Reach  it  down  to  me  ?  "  howled  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
as  one  of  his  feet  slipped  ominously  and  he  clutched 
anew  at  the  ledge,  "  wha'd  ye  s'pose  you're  going  to 
do,  send  it  by  express,  C.  O.  D.?  Reckon  you're 

250 


Shovelled  Off 


going  to  die  and  leave  it  to  me  in  your  will,  don't  ye  ?  " 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  hastily  thrust  the  shovel  through 
the  window,  with  such  speed  indeed,  not  being  certain 
of  the  distance,  as  to  catch  her  husband  smartly  on 
the  top  of  his  head  just  as  he  was  about  opening  his 
mouth  for  a  fresh  remark,  whereat  his  mouth  went 
shut  again  instantly. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth's  tongue  lay  between  his  teeth 
at  that  very  moment. 

"  Suffering  Columbus !  "  he  yelled,  when  he  could 
get  his  tongue  loose  from  the  teeth  again,  "  what  ye 
do  that  for  ?  " 

"  I  did  n't  mean  to  hit  you,"  pleaded  his  wife. 

"  Yes,  ye  did  too ! "  returned  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
savagely,  and  he  thought,  with  bitterness  in  his  heart, 
how  inscrutable  were  the  ways  of  Providence  that 
should  send  the  tears  from  his  eye  pouring  down  the 
lachrymal  glands  into  his  nose  at  the  very  moment 
when  he  had  n't  a  hand  to  spare  for  his  handkerchief. 

Clinging  to  the  window  ledge  with  one  arm,  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  made  shift  to  work  the  shovel  into  his 
other  hand,  and  to  poke  it  feebly  against  the  heavy 
snow. 

"This  is  the  dam  —  " 

"  Ellery  Wigglesworth  ! "  cried  his  horror-stricken 
wife. 

"  —  pest  snow  I  ever  saw,"  snarled  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
unheeding  his  wife's  interruption.  But  with  super- 
human energy  he  succeeded  in  dislodging  a  quantity, 
which  disappeared  over  the  edge  of  the  roof. 

251 


How  Wiggleseworth 


"  Oh  !  "  screamed  a  female  voice  as  the  snow  went 
out  of  sight. 

It  was  a  somewhat  smothered  voice.  It  belonged 
to  a  very  tall,  thin  lady,  who  had  called  at  the  kitchen 
door  with  a  large  subscription  book,  containing  one 
thousand  recipes  and  hints  for  making  women  beauti- 
ful, every  one  of  which  the  tall  lady  had  apparently 
disregarded  from  her  youth  up  —  which  was  a  long 
distance.  She  had  arrived  at  the  back  stoop  sim- 
ultaneously with  the  advent  of  Mr.  Wigglesworth's 
wad  of  snow. 

"  You  are  a  wretch ! "  shrieked  the  tall  woman, 
waltzing  out  into  the  yard  and  shaking  the  subscrip- 
tion book  at  Mr.  Wiggles  worth.  Her  bonnet  was 
smashed  down  over  one  eye,  imparting  to  the  tall 
woman  a  rakish  appearance  totally  at  variance  with 
the  suggestions  of  her  book,  which  could  be  had  in 
cloth,  or  in  half  morocco  at  double  the  cost. 

"  Get  out !  You  old  fool !  "  roared  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  his  arm  nearly  strained  out  of  its  socket. 

"I  ain't  an  old  fool,"  shrieked  the  tall  woman, 
clawing  at  the  snow  down  her  neck ;  "  I  'm  just  as 
respectable  a  lady  as  you  are,  and  I  '11  have  the  police 
here  in  two  minutes  1 " 

So  she  rushed  out  of  the  yard  and  up  the  street, 
and  she  has  n  't  been  back  yet,  whence  it  is  probable 
she  was  unable  to  find  the  police. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  toiled  on.  The  increasing  weight 
of  the  shovel,  the  difficulty  of  securing  with  one  hand 
the  proper  leverage,  the  strain  upon  his  other  arm,  the 

252 


Shovelled  Off 


slipping  tendencies  of  his  feet,  the  constant  sniffings 
of  his  nose,  the  eyes  standing  out  with  the  veins  upon 
his  forehead  —  these  are  things  that  the  poet  laureate 
might  make  clear,  but  before  which  the  ordinary  pen 
must  falter. 

Not  to  say  anything  about  the  maddening  sugges- 
tions from  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  who,  with  an  apron  on 
her  head,  leaned  that  member  out  of  the  window  and 
said  things  that  he  '11  never  forget. 

At  that  juncture  the  minister  came  up  the  slippery 
walk,  stepping  carefully  and  bearing  in  his  hands  a 
bowl  of  delicious  tomato  soup. 

"  Hurry  over  with  it,"  his  wife  had  said,  "  for  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  loves  my  tomato  soup  dearly." 

It  was  at  the  very  moment  when  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth's  extraordinary  efforts  with  the  shovel  appeared 
likely  to  meet  with  some  reward.  Already  the  mass 
of  snow  was  loosening,  and  then  Mrs.  Wigglesworth's 
quick  eye  discerned  the  minister  turning  the  corner  of 
the  house,  the  steaming  bowl  balanced  gingerly  in 
front  of  him.  She  shrieked,  threw  up  her  head, 
knocking  out  the  support  to  the  window  which,  crash- 
ing down  upon  the  hand  of  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  tore 
from  that  startled  gentleman  a  shriek  of  more  than 
mortal  agony,  and  the  next  moment,  prone  in  the  mass 
of  snow,  he  was  alpining  down  the  kitchen  roof,  his 
legs  spread  very  wide  apart  and  his  hands  clutching 
the  wooden  shovel. 

Petrified,  the  minister  stood  on  the  walk,  his  face 
upraised  in  a  look  of  horrified  inquiry  and  his  hands 

253 


Shovelled  Off 


holding  aloft  the  bowl  of  tomato  soup,  as  if  it  might 
be  a  propitiatory  oblation  offered  for  the  gods. 

"  It  was  awful,"  shuddered  the  woman  next  door, 
in  explaining  it  a  few  hours  later  to  the  local  reporter, 
"  to  see  that  good  man  standing  there,  a  man  of  up- 
right character,  and  then  have  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
brandishing  that  snow  shovel,  descend  with  an  ava- 
lanche of  snow  and  render  him  quite  otherwise." 

"  I  think  you  said  the  soup  was  hot  ? "  the  reporter 
suggested,  as  he  made  an  entry  in  his  notebook. 

The  woman  next  door  opened  the  window  a  little 
way. 

"  Listen ! "  she  said,  sententiously. 

And  even  at  that  distance  the  muffled  sounds  of 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  were  distinctly  audible. 


354 


Chapter  XXVIII 

Hem)  Wtgglesivorth 
Oiled  the  Hinges 


"  But  he  was  bothered  at  the  office  all  through  the  after- 
noon."—  Page  257, 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. - Ho<w   Wigglesworth 
Oiled  the  Hinges 

'  ~l^k       "T  O W  remember,"  charged  Mrs.  Wiggles- 

^^k  worth,  as  her  husband  was  starting  for 

^^       the  office,  "  that  the  minister  and  his 

-^-  wife  take  tea  with  us,  and  don't  forget 

to  come  home  early,  will  you  ? " 

"  Come  home  early  ? "  returned  Mr.  Wigglesworth  ; 
"  what  ye  take  me  for  ?  Don't  ye  s  'pose  I  know 
when  to  come  home?  Think  I'm  a  hired  girl  at  a 
dance,  don't  ye  ? " 

But  he  was  bothered  at  the  office  all  through  the 
afternoon,  and  got  pinned  in  his  chair  at  the  last 
moment  by  a  tall,  dark  man  in  a  foreign-looking 
moustache,  who  stole  past  the  boy,  and  just  when 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  thought  it  must  be  a  new  customer, 
pulled  a  box  of  cigars  from  under  his  coat  and  pro- 
ceeded to  explain  in  a  hoarse,  mysterious  whisper, 
that,  being  smuggled,  they  were  extraordinarily  cheap 
at  that  price,  provided  you  held  them  firmly  about  the 
waist  while  smoking,  to  prevent  their  insides  falling 
out. 

Half  way  home  he  thought  of  the  guests,  and  he 
broke  into  the  front  hall,  his  face  hot  and  red  with 
haste. 

"  '  Sh  1 "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  rushing  out 
of  the  dining-room.  "They're  in  the  parlor.  Oh, 
Ellery,  what  made  you  so  late,  and  it  just  seems  as  if 

257 


How  Wigglesworth 


the  oven  never  would  bake  those  biscuits,  and  do,  for 
mercy's  sake,  hurry  up  and  wash,  and  don't  forget 
clean  cuffs,  and  why  didn't  you  hurry? " 

"  Hurry !  "  choked  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  pulling  his 
coat  off  as  he  rushed  upstairs  ;  "  think  I'm  a  plumber  ? 
Reckon  a  man's  got  nothing  to  do  but  run  his  legs  into 
an  apoplexy  to  eat  suppers  with  ministers  ?  " 

Fifteen  minutes  later  he  entered  the  parlor  and 
greeted  the  guests.  His  clothing  was  a  good  deal 
agitated,  and  in  his  haste  he'd  forgotten  to  put  on  a 
necktie. 

"It  rejoices  my  heart,  Brother  Wigglesworth," 
beamed  the  minister,  "to  engage  in  these  inter- 
changes of  social  pleasures.  How  delightful  it  is," 
he  added,  putting  in  a  gesture,  "  to  greet  one  another 
in  our  homes,  and  there,  in  the  relaxation  that  pro- 
ceeds from  —  from  —  er  —  relaxation,  to  soften  the 
—  the  asperities  of  —  of  —  er  —  er  —  " 

"  Existence,"  suggested  his  wife. 

"  Precisely,"  said  the  minister,  "  of  our  existence. 
Exactly." 

"  Oh,  Ellery,"  called  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  putting  a 
troubled  face  in  at  the  door,  "will  you  please  step 
here  a  moment  ?  " 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  followed  her  to  the  dining-room. 

"  What  ails  ye  now  ? "  he  asked.  "  Why  don't  ye 
have  supper  if  you're  going  to  ?  S'pose  I  want  to 
stay  in  there  all  night  with  that  automatic  phono- 
graph ? " 

"  Everything's    ready,"  said    Mrs.    Wigglesworth, 

258 


Oiled  the  Hinges 


waving  her  hand  towards  the  table,  "  and  I  want  you 
to  oil  this  door,  so  when  Imogene  comes  in  with  the 
tea  it  won't  squeak  so  awfully.  It's  been  driving  me 
wild  for  a  month." 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  knew  this  ;  also  that  his  wife 
had  talked  about  it  ceaselessly  at  every  meal. 

"  Where's  your  oil  can  ?  "  he  said  testily.  "  You 
women  folks  always  call  on  a  man  to  do  these  things 
at  just  the  worst  times.  You  save  'em  up." 

"  I  would  n't  lift  it  off  the  hinges,"  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  advised,  as  her  husband  with  his  accustomed 
energy  grabbed  hold  of  the  door. 

"  Course  you  would  n't !  "  he  grunted,  "  you  'd  have 
a  new  way  of  your  own.  Side  talks  'with  girls  on  how 
to  oil  doors,  by  Mrs.  Wigglesworth.  Written  exclu- 
sively for  the  Ladies'  Home  Ledger." 

Lifting  the  door  from  its  hinges  and  leaning  it 
against  the  wall,  Mr.  Wigglesworth  anointed  the 
hinges  copiously. 

"That's  the  way  to  do  a  job  like  that,"  he  said,  im- 
portantly. "  Don't  take  a  minute,  and  you  get  at  the 
whole  thing." 

Then  he  picked  up  the  door.  It  was  one  of  the 
heaviest  doors  on  Douglass  Avenue,  and  the  veins  oh 
Mr.  Wiggles  worth's  forehead  stood  out  a  little  as  he 
raised  it  up  and  slid  it  into  place. 

"There  you  arel"  he  cried  triumphantly,  wiping 
his  brow. 

"  But  the  bottom  hinge  is  n't  on,"  suggested  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth. 

259 


How  Wigglestworth 


"What's  the  reason  it  ain't"  retorted  her  husband. 

Grasping  the  door  —  it  was  a  wide  door  also  — he 
raised  it  again.  This  time  the  bottom  hinge  slipped 
on,  but  the  upper  one  failed  to  connect. 

"  Why  don't  ye  take  hold  here  and  help  me  out  a 
little?"  snapped  Mr.  Wigglesworth.  "Think  I  can 
hold  a  ninety-pound  door  out  at  arm's  length  all 
winter  ? " 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  promptly  lent  assistance,  pull- 
ing the  door  quite  loose  and  pushing  it  over  on  her 
husband. 

"  What  ye  doing  ? "  he  cried,  tottering  forward  and 
back  under  its  awkward  weight.  "  Why  don't  ye  do 's 
I  tell  ye  ?  When  I  hold  her  up  you  take  and  guide 
the  hinges  and  they  '11  slip  on  like  a  whistle." 

Once  more  he  brought  his  benumbed  arms  into  ser- 
vice and  hoisted  the  door  aloft.  Its  weight  had  in- 
creased surprisingly.  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  got  the 
upper  hinge  in  position,  but  when  she  tackled  the 
lower  one  the  upper  slipped  off  again.  This  was  re- 
peated, with  variations,  for  thirty  times. 

"  Which  one  of  them  is  the  longest  ? "  Mrs.  Wig- 
glesworth asked  with  a  sob. 

"  Both  of  'em  1 "  howled  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  enun- 
ciating the  truth  that  every  man  discovers  who  tries 
to  hang  a  door.  "They're  both  of  'em  six  inches 
longer  than  the  other  one,"  and  he  strained  afresh. 

"I  am  afraid  that  something  is  detaining  Brother 
Wigglesworth,"  remarked  the  minister,  into  whose 
countenance  had  stolen  a  look  of  anxious  hunger. 

260 


Oiled  the  Hinges 


"I  can  hear  a  noise  in  the  dining-room,"  said  his 
wife,  who  for  fifteen  minutes  had  been  idly  fingering 
the  family  album.  "  Listen  1 " 

Through  the  still  rooms  the  muffled  sounds,  grow- 
ing louder,  now  took  their  way,  rising  and  falling  and 
augmenting  in  volume.  The  minister's  wife  grew 
pale. 

"  I  think  we  ought  to  investigate,"  she  said  agitat- 
edly ;  "  perhaps  somebody  has  fainted." 

When  they  opened  the  dining-room  door,  the  other 
door,  the  one  Mr.  Wigglesworth  was  performing  with, 
had  just  slipped  off  again,  with  an  impetus  that  sent 
its  bearer  careering  across  the  floor.  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth's  collar  was  torn  out,  his  vest  had  ripped  open, 
and  the  sleeves  of  his  coat,  worked  up  to  his  elbows, 
disclosed  that  he  had  turned  his  cuffs  instead  of  don- 
ning fresh  ones.  His  crimson  face,  bathed  in  per- 
spiration, was  painfully  distorted,  his  eyes  hung  out, 
while  between  his  parched  lips  a  dry  tongue  rattled. 

Catching  sight  of  the  pale  face  of  the  minister  he 
gave  a  hoarse  laugh. 

"  Doors  hung !  "  he  shrieked,  tottering  aimlessly 
forward  and  making  a  lunge  at  the  sideboard  :  "  I'm 
the  great  international  door-hanger.  Doors  hung  in 
any  position  to  suit  customers.  Bring  your  doors  to 
Wigglesworth,  the  celebrated  hangist.  Customers 
in  delicate  health  can  have  their  doors  hung  at  home. 
All  kinds  of  doors  kept  on  hand  "  — 

And  then  the  door,  held  aloft  in  his  stiffened  arms, 
engaged  with  the  chandelier  and  fell  with  its  bearer 

261 


Oiled  the  Hinges 


upon  the  daintily  spread  table.  In  vain  did  the  ladies 
utter  a  warning  scream,  in  vain  did  the  minister,  break- 
ing from  his  stupor,  spring  to  the  rescue.  Over  in 
one  fell  ruin  went  table,  door  and  Wiggles  worth,  and 
the  tragedy  was  complete. 

Mrs.  Wiggles  worth  said  afterward  that  the  most 
beautiful  sight  to  her  was  the  minister.  Thrown  to 
the  floor  and  pinned  against  the  wall,  with  the  table 
across  his  knees,  a  large  circular  pie,  covered  with 
whipped  cream  to  a  depth  of  two  inches  had  slid  into 
that  gentleman's  lap  and  mashed  itself  all  over  the 
front  of  his  stomach. 

"  And  yet,"  she  cried  admiringly,  "  he  never  lost 
patience  once,  but  just  sat  there  with  a  smile  on  his 
face  like  what  you  see  in  pictures." 


263 


Chapter  XXIX 

How  Wigglesworth 
Got  Ready  for 
Christmas 


"'  Why,  Ellery,'  she  called,  'What  have  you  got  there?'" 


CHAPTER  XXIX.—  Ho<w    Wigglesworth    Got 
Ready  For  Christmas 

MRS.  WIGGLESWORTH  pursed  up  her 
lips. 
"  I    want,"    she   said,   nodding  her 
head  thoughtfully,  "  to  observe  Christ- 
mas in  the  old-fashioned  way  this  year." 

"Umph!  "  returned  Mr  Wiggles  worth,  rattling  his 
paper,  "that  means  you  wrfnt  to  run  me  in  debt  for 
more  fool  things  than  usual,  I  s  'pose." 

"No,  Ellery,"  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  in  a  tone  of 
mild  reproof.  "  I  mean  to  be  economical  in  my  ex- 
penditures. What  I  want  to  do  is  to  revive  some  of 
the  customs  of  our  childhood  —  you  know,  Ellery,  a 
skating  party  and  a  turkey  dinner  and  then  a  tree  in 
the  evening  loaded  with  presents." 

"  There  ye  go !  "  cried  Mr.  Wigglesworth  ;  "  how 
ye  going  to  load  a  tree  with  presents  unless  you  spend 
a  cartload  of  my  money  buying  'em  ? " 

"Oh,  we'll  have  our  friends  in,  you  know,"  ex- 
plained Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  her  imagination  kindling  ; 
"  the  Wetherbees,  the  minister  and  his  wife,  and  two 
or  three  more.  It'll  be  ever  so  nice.  Guess  who's 
going  to  be  Santa  Claus  ? "  concluded  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth,  archly. 

"  How  do  I  know  ? "  answered  Mr.  Wigglesworth  ; 
"  some  fool  or  other,  I  s'pose." 

"You  are!"  cried  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  clapping 
her  hands  in  glee. 

265 


Hoew  Wtggles<worth 


"  In  a  horn  I  am  ! "  retorted  her  husband  grimly ; 
"look  cunning,  I  would,  waltzing  round  in  a  little  bob- 
tail fur  jacket  and  handing  the  minister  a  string  of 
india-rubber  popcorn.  Wigglesworth  in  his  great  act 
of  climbing  a  step-ladder  and  catching  his  chin 
whiskers  on  the  chandelier." 

"  Oh,  I  guess  you  will,"  coaxed  Mrs.  Wigglesworth ; 
"please  do — you're  just  the  one  to  carry  it  out." 

"  Oh,  I  '11  carry  it  out,"  grinned  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
in  high  spirits  ;  "  furnish  me  with  ice  tongs  and  I  '11 
carry  out  anything,"  and  he  nodded  humorously  at  the 
looking-glass. 

"How  nice  it  would  sound,"  said  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  with  a  touch  of  sentiment,  "  to  be  awakened  in 
the  morning  by  the  waits." 

"  What  kind  of  weights  ? "  asked  Mr.  Wigglesworth. 

"  I  mean  the  way  they  do  in  England,"  Mrs.  Wig- 
glesworth explained;  "coming  under  your  window, 
you  know." 

"  Oh,  window  weights,  eh  ? "  chuckled  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  giving  the  looking-glass  another  nod. 

He  rarely  had  found  himself  in  better  spirits. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  after  consid- 
erable calculation  on  her  fingers,  "  that  I  shall  need  a 
little  extra  money  for  —  for  the  candy  and  —  and  the 
nuts,  you  know  —  and  we  '11  want  to  make  some  little 
presents  to  the  Wetherbees  and  our  other  guests." 

Mr.  Wigglesworth's  humor  went  out  like  a  lamp  in 
a  draught. 

"There  ye  gol"  he  cried  angrily,  "rushing  into 
expense  the  first  thing." 

266 


Got  Ready  for  Christmas 


"We  won't  spend  much,"  pleaded  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth;  "but  we  don't  want  to  look  mean." 

"  Who  ye  calling  mean  ?  "  answered  Mt.  Wiggles- 
worth  in  a  high  key ;  "  ain't  you  a  daisy  wife,  I  'd  like 
to  know,  when  I  'm  closing  a  hard  year  and  trying  to 
keep  my  head  above  water,  to  go  around  telling  every- 
body I  'm  mean,  just  because  I  won't  let  ye  have  sev- 
eral hundred  dollars  to  squander  on  your  old  Wether- 
bees  ?  Santa  Claus  !  "  he  went  on  in  strong  disgust, 
"  don't  ye  ask  me  to  act  any  of  your  monkey  games. 
'F  ye  want  any  of  your  gummy  Christmas  trees  round 
here  you  '11  have  to  have  'em  without  me  I " 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  sighed  and  let  fall  a  few  tears  as 
her  husband  accompanied  himself  to  bed  with  an  un- 
interrupted flow  of  this  sort  of  language.  Her  plans 
for  a  model  holiday  were  tumbled  in  the  dust. 

Hence  how  great  was  her  astonishment  next  day  in 
looking  out  of  the  window  to  see  her  husband  strug- 
gling through  the  gate  in  the  company  of  a  huge 
spruce  tree,  whose  limbs  stood  out  stiffly  and  made 
progress  difficult. 

"  Why,  Ellery  1 "  she  called,  "  what  have  you  got 
there?" 

"What  ye  s'pose  it  is?"  angrily  answered  Mr. 
Wigglesworth,  whose  face  was  hot  and  red  with  the 
unwieldiness  of  the  tree  ;  "  looks  like  a  steam-heating 
apparatus,  don't  it  ?  Reminds  ye  of  a  game  of  nine- 
pins, pro'bly." 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  had  cut  the  tree  himself  in  a 
woodlot  a  mile  distant,  and  dragging  it  home  over  the 
frozen  roads  had  been  no  small  labor. 

267 


How  Wigglesewortfi 


"  Why  don't  ye  come  down  here  and  lend  a  hand  ? " 
he  yelled,  pausing  to  pluck  one  of  the  twigs  from  his 
eye. 

"Why,  certainly,"  purred  Mrs.  Wigglesworth, 
hastily  running  down  the  steps.  "  Where  did  you  get 
it,  Ellery  ?  " 

"Where  d'ye  s'pose  I  got  it  ? "  retorted  her  husband, 
snatching  the  tree  loose  from  the  gate.  "Think  I 
stole  it  from  an  orphan  ?  Reckon  it  was  returned  if 
not  called  for  in  ten  days  don't  ye  ?  " 

"  I  thought,"  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  in  a  mollify- 
ing tone,  as  they  dragged  the  tree  up  the  steps,  "  that 
we'd  given  it  up." 

"That's  it!"  cried  Mr.  Wigglesworth.  "That's 
the  way  —  wait  till  I  've  walked  eight  miles  lugging 
this  gash-flummuxed  old  tree  and  then  tell  me  you  Ve 
changed  your  mind.  Why  did  n't  ye  say  so  'fore  I  'd 
made  such  an  idiot  of  myself?" 

"We'll  have  it,  dearest,  if  you  wish  it,"  soothed 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth. 

"  That 's  a  pretty  way  to  answer,  ain't  it  ? "  said  her 
husband.  "  You  go  to  work  and  get  me  to  invite 
people  to  a  Christmas  celebration,  and  then  try  to 
kick  out  of  it.  That 's  a  nice  holiday  spirit  to  show 
toward  your  own  husband,  ain't  it  ? " 

"Have  you  invited  them?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Wig- 
glesworth. 

"'Course,  I  have,"  replied  Mr.  Wigglesworth. 
"  Did  n't  we  agree  to  do  it  last  night  ?  Ain't  ye  willing 
once  in  a  year  to  give  up  selfishness  and  all  them 

268 


Got  Ready  for  Christmas 


things  and  let  other  people  have  a  little  pleasure? 
What 's  the  use  of  being  so  unpleasant  and  stuck  up  ?  " 

"  I  'm  sure  I  shall  be  delighted,"  whimpered  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth,  her  head  whirling  with  the  peculiar 
rotary  character  of  her  husband's  arguments. 

By  this  time  they  had  the  tree  wedged  in  the  front 
door. 

"  Quit  holding  back  on  it ! "  called  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth. 

"I'm  pushing  hard,"  returned  his  wife,  "but,  oh, 
dear,  how  pitchy  it  is.  It 's  all  over  pitch,  Ellery." 

"  'Course  it  is,"  said  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  pausing  to 
see  where  the  limbs  were  caught.  "  What  d  'ye  ex- 
pect to  find  on  it,  mock  turtle  soup  ? " 

The  hired  girl  came  out  to  help  them.  Mr. 
Wigglesworth,  his  wrath  mounting  in  proportion  to 
the  tree's  resistance,  clawed  fiercely  at  the  prickly 
boughs. 

"Why  don't  ye  push  ? "  he  yelled  to  the  hired  girl ; 
"what  ye  think  I  pay  ye  three  dollars  a  week  for, 
anyway? " 

Only  those  who  have  struggled  with  a  Christmas 
tree  understand  how  immovably  it  can  fix  itself  in  a 
door.  Mr.  Wigglesworth  wrenched  and  yanked,  and 
said  things  at  which  his  wife  turned  pale,  and  then 
suddenly  losing  his  hold  he  dashed  for  the  shed. 

"I'll  fix  it,"  he  shouted,  returning  with  an  axe. 

It  was  an  almost  new  hired  girl,  substituted  during 
the  temporary  absence  of  Imogene,  a  girl  whose  grasp 
of  the  language  was  limited.  The  wedged  tree,  the 

269 


Got  Ready  for  Christmas 


loud  shouting,  the  red  and  swollen  face  of  Wiggles- 
worth,  to  her  untutored  mind  were  fraught  with  mys- 
tery, and  when  he  rushed  back  with  set  teeth  and 
brandishing  the  axe,  panic  ensued.  Uttering  a  wild 
shriek,  the  girl  vaulted  completely  over  the  tree  and 
scuttled  for  the  cellar. 

"  What  ails  that  fool,  now  ?  "  snuffed  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth.  "  Must  have  left  another  pie  in  the  oven." 

In  two  minutes  he  'd  chopped  the  front  hall  full  of 
sticky  boughs. 

"All  over  my  clean  rugs,  too,"  complained  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth. 

They  eventually  got  the  tree  stood  up  in  the  par- 
lor, and  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  with  the  key  of  the  door 
in  her  possession,  could  be  seen  constantly  moving  in 
and  out.  The  air  of  mystery  with  which  day  and 
night  she  went  clothed,  is  quite  impossible  of  descrip- 
tion. 


370 


Chapter  XXX 

H<yw  Wiggleseworth 
Played  Santa 
Ctaus 


"  '  What  'd  I  tell  ye?'  he  snapped  calling  attention  to  his 
trussed  up  legs,  '  ain't  I  a  dandy  Santa  Claus  ?' "  —  Page  275. 


CHAPTER  XXX.— Ho<w  Wigglesworth  Played 
Santa  Claus 

BEHIND  the  locked  doors,  the  parlor  of  the 
Wigglesworth   mansion   blazed   mightily. 
There  stood  the  Christmas  tree,  loaded  to 
its   topmost  bough   with   beautiful  gifts, 
and  the  light   of    countless  candles  made  the   dark- 
green  foliage  shine  eloquently.     When  the  guests  ar- 
rived, filled  with  Christmas  merriment  and  turkey,  the 
doors  were  thrown  open,  and  a  loud  clamor  of  tongues 
ensued.     Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wetherbee  and  Master  Augus- 
tus Wetherbee  were  there,  Mrs.  Coakley  had  come 
with  her  two  thin  daughters  and  the  minister  and  his 
wife  had  brought  along  all  four  of  their  children. 

"Whoop-ee!  "  cried  Willie  Wigglesworth. 

"  Them's    my   skates  1 "    shrilled    little   Augustus 
Wetherbee,  clapping  his  hands. 

The  minister  beamed  upon  the  company  and  rubbed 
his  palms  together. 

"  Really,"  he  said,  in  an  unctuous  voice,  "  a  most 
delightful  occasion.  How  charming  to  recall,  in  the 
unfettered  joy  of  these  little  ones,  the  experiences  of 
our  own  vanished  youth.  We  should  ever  be  re- 
minded," he  added,  making  a  gesture,  "that  these - 
er  —  occasions  —  are  valuable  as  —  er  —  tending  to 
keep  soft  our  —  er  —  er  —  our  —  er  —  our — er- 

"  Hearts,"  suggested  his  wife. 

273 


Hem)  Wigglesworth 


"Precisely  —  our  hearts,"  concluded  the  minister; 
"  the  very  word  I  was  about  to  employ." 

"Ma,"  called  Willie,  after  everybody  had  grown 
tired  standing  around  and  giving  utterance  to  notes  of 
admiration,  "  where  's  Pa  ? " 

"  Sure  enough ! "  exclaimed  the  minister,  "  where  is 
Brother  Wigglesworth  ?  I  declare  I  had  n  't  missed 
him." 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  wrinkled  up  her  face  with  an 
air  of  great  mystery. 

"  Ellery  was  detained  at  the  office,"  she  said  in  a 
high  voice;  "he  will  be  here  presently." 

Then  she  nodded  her  head,  and  smiled  with  a 
momentous  appearance  of  secrecy. 

"Ah,  yes,  precisely,"  answered  the  minister,  also 
smiling  with  great  intention  to  indicate  his  own 
shrewdness.  "I  see  —  ha!  ha! — very  good!"  and 
he  whispered  to  his  wife,  who  nodded  with  lively  in- 
terest. 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  with  a  nervous  air,  sidled  out 
of  the  room  and  rushed  up  the  front  stairs. 

"Oh,  Ellery  I"  she  cried  in  a  hoarse  whisper, 
"  can 't  you  hurry  up  and  hurry  down  ?  They  're  all 
waiting,  and  everybody  is  getting  impatient,  and  the 
candles  are  melting  and  running  over  everything  ?" 

Gloom  sat  upon  the  brow  of  Wigglesworth.  For 
some  minutes  he  had  been  struggling  to  introduce 
himself  into  a  pair  of  fur  trousers  that  originally  had 
been  constructed  for  a  much  smaller  man,  and  his 
efforts,  though  finally  successful,  had  left  him  in  a 

274 


Played  Santa  Clans 


blown  condition.  A  wig  wrong  side  foremost  sat 
perched  upon  his  head,  and  the  long  and  flowing 
horsehair  whiskers  trailed  over  one  shoulder  in  an 
untutored  fashion.  When  his  wife  broke  in  on  him 
Mr.  Wigglesworth's  smouldering  wrath  blazed  forth. 

"What'd  I  tell  ye?  "  he  snapped,  calling  attention 
to  his  trussed  up  legs  ;  "  ain't  I  a  dandy  Santa  Claus  ?  " 

"Oh,  you  will  look  splendid,"  encouraged  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth,  "  soon  as  you  get  your  coat  and  boots 
on.  Do  hurry,  Ellery,  that's  a  dear." 

"  Hurry  nothing !  "  snorted  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
angrily ;  "  I  told  ye  I'd  make  a  fool  of  myself,  and 
blamed  if  I  ain't  doing  it.  What  made  ye  pick  out  a 
boy's  size  ? "  he  snarled,  straining  himself  into  the 
coat. 

"It  was  the  only  Santa  Claus  costume  the  man 
had,"  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  answered,  "and  you  look 
awfully  cute  in  it.  I  declare,  you  look  just  like  a  pic- 
ture out  of  the  books." 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  groaned.  Already  he  could  feel 
the  perspiration  starting. 

"  Don't  say  any  more  things  like  that,"  pleaded 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth.  "  You  know  we're  doing  this  to 
give  happiness  to  others.  Now,  you  go  down  the 
back  stairs  and  come  around  under  the  parlor  window, 
then  I'll  make  believe  I  hear  bells,  and  we'll  all  come 
and  discover  you,  and  then  you  can  jump  in  through 
the  window  and  we'll  have  the  presents  ; "  and  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth  hastened  back  to  the  parlor,  where  her 
long  absence  had  been  noted  with  anxiety. 

275 


Haw  Wiggles<wortb 


After  some  moments  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  raised  a 
warning  hand. 

"  Hark !  "  she  said  in  a  play-acting  voice :  "  Me- 
thinks  I  hear  the  bells  1 "  and  she  rushed  to  the  win-, 
dow,  the  guests  trooping  gaily  after  her. 

If  there  had  been  any  bells  they  must  have  gone 
past,  for  though  the  company  peered  and  flattened 
their  noses  on  the  window,  no  form  could  be  descried 
outside. 

In  point  of  fact,  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  in  getting 
through  the  back  door  had  slipped  down  the  steps 
and  nearly  unhinged  his  spinal  column.  In  the  close 
embrace  of  the  costume  he  found  it  well-nigh  im- 
possible to  regain  his  feet.  Dragging  himself  groan- 
ing to  the  window,  he  stood  waiting  in  the  snow.  It 
was  a  cold  night,  and  as  he  waited  there  under  the 
silent  Christmas  stars  Mr.  Wigglesworth  could  feel 
the  thermometer  accompanying  his  enthusiasm  down 
into  the  lowest  depths.  Just  as  it  seemed  as  if  he 
must  ultimately  freeze  to  death  right  where  he  stood, 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth  once  more  aroused  the  jaded  in- 
terest of  the  guests. 

"  I  know  I  heard  bells  that  time,"  she  cried. 

"There's  somebody!"  shrieked  little  Augustus 
Wetherbee,  who  was  peering  over  the  lower  sash. 

"  It's  Santa  Claus  1 "  exclaimed  the  minister. 
"  Open  the  window,  quick  1 " 

The  window  was  frozen  down.  It  probably  was 
frozen  with  greater  solidity  than  any  other  window  in 
in  the  city.  Mr.  Wetherbee  and  the  minister  heaved 
and  hoisted  at  it  with  all  their  strength. 

276 


Played  Santa  Claus 


"  I  never  saw  such  a  window,"  puffed  the  minister : 
"  it  seems  to  be  fastened  with  nails." 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  flew  to  the  front  door. 

"  You'll  have  to  come  in  this  way  1 "  she  called  in  a 
loud  whisper. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  dragged  his  congealed  legs  up 
the  steps. 

"  What  kind  of  a  fool  trick  ye  trying  to  play  on 
me  ? "  he  howled,  his  voice  taking  on  a  horribly  weird 
tone  as  it  struggled  through  his  horsehair  whiskers ; 
"mean  to  keep  me  out  here  till  my  feet  drop  off, 
don't  ye  ?  Think  I  want  to  catch  pneumonia  acting 
out  a  gash-flummuxed  old  Santa  Claus  for  you  ? " 

"  Oh,  hush,  Ellery  1 "  pleaded  his  wife,  "  they  '11  hear 
you  I " 

"What  ye  s'pose  I  care  'f  they  do?"  snuffed  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  ;  "  think  I  'm  going  to  lose  my  life 
prancing  around  in  this  little  bob-tail  jacket?" 

"  Come  right  in  —  come  quick !  "  said  his  wife  agi- 
tatedly, hurrying  through  the  hall  and  raising  the 
portieres. 

The  entrance  of  Santa  Claus  was  greeted  with  ap- 
plause, though  it  was  easy  to  see  that  the  success  of 
his  appearance  had  been  considerably  marred.  A 
sulky  Santa  Claus  is  scarcely  a  thing  to  call  up  delight, 
and  it  was  plain  to  half  an  eye  that  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
was  not  enjoying  himself. 

"  I  know  who  it  is ! "  shouted  Willie,  as  Santa  Claus 
waddled  across  the  floor,  churlishly  shaking  his  head ; 
"it's  Pa!" 

277 


Hcnv  Wiggleseworth 


"  You  shut  your  chin ! "  muttered  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  and  he  caught  his  son  a  clip  on  the  side  of  the 
head  that  made  that  astonished  young  man's  teeth 
rattle. 

The  distribution  of  presents  went  on  under  condi- 
tions of  gloomy  depression.  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  as- 
sisted Santa  Claus,  and  strove  to  rally  the  spirit  of 
the  occasion. 

"Come,  Santa,"  she  said  in  a  playful  tone,  "you 
must  hand  us  those  things  from  the  top  boughs." 

It  had  been  all  arranged  with  Mr.  Wigglesworth  in 
the  morning.  Mr.  Wetherbee  brought  the  step  lad- 
der in  from  the  hall. 

"You  don't  get  me  up  that  ladder  I"  growled  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  .to  his  wife. 

"  Oh,  please  do,  Ellery,"  whispered  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth,  pleadingly.  "  You  promised  you  would.  Don't 
spoil  the  whole  thing  that  way,  I  beg  of  you  1 " 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  slowly  mounted  the  ladder.  It 
was  a  wobbly  contrivance,  and  Mr.  Wigglesworth  stood 
on  the  top  step  with  his  knees  bent  at  a  painful  angle. 
The  upper  part  of  the  room  was  intensely  hot,  and  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  broke  into  a  perspiration  beyond  any- 
thing he  had  ever  known. 

Then  little  Augustus  Wetherbee  stumbled  over  the 
foot  of  the  stepladder  just  as  Mr.  Wigglesworth  was 
reaching  for  the  topmost  bough.  Being  a  household 
ladder  it  shut  up  with  instant  rapidity,  and  in  a  flash 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  was  in  the  tree.  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  shrieked,  the  other  women  screamed,  the  min- 

378 


Played  Santa.  Claus 


ister  sprang  to  the  rescue,  and  the  next  moment  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  and  the  tree  were  thundering  to  the 
floor,  with  the  minister  under  them. 

"  Don't  you  say  a  word  to  me  1 "  screamed  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth, when  they  had  got  him  on  his  feet,  looking 
dreadful  with  the  horse  hair  whiskers  trailing  down 
his  back.  "I  told  ye  I'd  make  a  fool  of  myself,  and 
now  I  hope  you're  satisfied.  What's  that  ? "  he 
yelled,  clawing  madly  at  something  that  had  become 
affixed  to  his  own  side  whiskers. 

It  was  the  half  melted  remains  of  a  red  candle. 
With  a  howl  of  rage  Mr.  Wigglesworth  dashed  it 
against  the  wall  and  stalked  savagely  out  of  the  room. 
And  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  knew  better  than  to  inter- 
rupt .him. 


279 


Chapter  XXXI 

How  Wigglesworth 
Swore  Off 


"  'It's  something  broke  out  of  somewhere.'"  —  Page 287. 


CHAPTER  XXXI.— HVUJ  Wigglesworth  Swore 
Off 

GREAT  thoughts  and  mighty  purposes  born 
of  the  New  Year  surged  and  beat  within 
the  breast  of  Mr.  Wigglesworth  as  he 
made  his  way  home  from  the  office. 

"Tell  ye  what  it  is,  Emma,"  he  broke  out  as  he 
mechanically  laid  the  piece  of  tenderloin  aside  for  his 
own  use,  "  I  've  come  to  the  conclusion  to  turn  over 
a  new  leaf." 

"  Oh,  how  perfectly  lovely ! "  cried  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  with  an  alacrity  that  any  husband  would  have 
felt  to  be  keener  than  the  occasion  demanded. 

"  There 's  no  need  to  get  gay,"  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
said  coldly.  Then  he  mashed  his  potato  for  awhile 
with  emphasis  and  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  preserved  dis- 
creet silence. 

"  I  know  how  it  is  with  some  of  these  fellows,"  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  contemptuously  resumed ;  "  swearing  off 
this  thing  and  that  thing  and  then  going  at  it  again 
next  week  again  worse 'n  ever.  I  hope  I  ain't  that 
kind  of  a  weak-minded  fool." 

"I'm  sure  you  're  a  very  different  kind,"  protested 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth  earnestly. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  glared  at  his  wife  for  the  space 
of  a  minute,  but  that  lady  unconsciously  went  on 
freeing  the  grounds  from  the  nose  of  the  teapot. 

"  I  mean,"  pursued  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  restraining 

283 


Haw  Wigglesworth 


himself,  "  to  overcome  some  of  the  faults  that  I  've 
seen  in  myself  once  or  twice  lately.  I  believe,"  said 
Mr.  Wigglesworth,  making  a  gesture  at  the  chandelier 
with  his  fork,  "  that  a  man  ought  to  hold  his  unpleas- 
ant side  in  check  about  the  house.  A  man  ain't  got 
no  right,"  he  cried,  imparting  an  oratorical  roll  to  his 
head  and  voice,  "to  let  out  his  temper  at  home. 
Home  ought  to  be  the — er  —  best  place  there  —  er 
—  is.  And  I've  noticed,  Emma,"  he  added  with  a 
touch  of  tenderness,  "  that  sometimes  I  've  kinder  let 
my  temper  slip  when  you  Ve  exasperated  me.  I  don't 
mean  to  do  it  any  more.  I  Ve  taken  a  new  resolve. 
I  Ve  quit.  That 's  what  the  new  year's  done  for  me." 

"  Oh,  I  'm  ever  so  glad !  "  cried  Mrs.  Wigglesworth, 
clapping  her  hands.  "  You  have  given  way  to  your 
temper  so  dreadfully,  Ellery." 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  frowned. 

"  You  don't  have  to  get  up  an  encore  over  it,"  he 
said  sourly. 

"  Oh,  but  it  has  been  hard  sometimes,"  protested 
his  wife.  "You  were  so  cross,  you  know,  Ellery, 
when  I  had  n't  done  the  least  thing." 

"Oh,  no,  you  had  n't  done  the  least  thing,"  sneered 
Mr.  Wigglesworth,  "course  not  —  it's  only  Wiggles- 
worth  that's  done  the  least  thing.  You  're  the  peace- 
maker, you  are.  How  To  Make  Home  Happy  Though 
Married,  by  Ruth  Ashmore  Wigglesworth.  For  sale 
by  all  druggists.  That's  what  you  are. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  slapped  his  napkin  on  the  table 
and  kicked  back  his  chair. 

284 


Swore  Off 

"  You  know  we're  going  to  call  on  the  Wetherbee's 
this  evening,"  suggested  Mrs.  Wiggles  worth,  with  an 
anxious  sigh. 

Taking  a  great  grasp  on  himself  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
got  stiffly  through  the  door. 

"That's  all  the  encouragement  a  man  ever  gets  in 
this  house,"  he  said,  bitterly.  "  No,"  he  called,  wav- 
ing his  wife  back  as  she  started  to  follow  upstairs. 
"I  can  find  my  things  myself.  I  don't  want  no 
woman  putting  in  my  shirt  studs  wrong  side  out." 

Every  man  knows  that  when  he  has  taken  a  great 
resolution  to  reform  himself  he  has  a  right  to  expect 
assistance  from  his  wife.  Mr.  Wigglesworth  plucked 
savagely  at  his  collar  in  maintenance  of  that  principle, 
and  when  the  collar  exhibited  a  balky  disposition,  he 
pulled  the  buttonholes  entirely  out  of  it.  Then  he 
tore  off  his  shirt  and  kicked  it  under  the  bed. 

"  Emma,"  he  bawled,  "  where's  my  clean  shirt  ?  " 

"  I  laid  it  right  on  the  chair,"  returned  Mrs.  Wig- 
glesworth from  the  front  hall. 

"  Laid  it  right  on  the  chair,"  mimicked  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth, standing  helplessly  in  the  middle  of  the 
room.  "Think  you're  a  hen,  don't  ye?  What 
chair  ?  '  Taint  here,  I  tell  ye.  You  Ve  hid  it.  Try- 
ing to  exasperate  me  some  more,  that's  what  you  're 
doing." 

Delivering  himself  of  this  retort  in  a  voice  pitched 
for  the  ground  floor,  imparted  a  greenish  hue  to  Mr. 
Wigglesworth's  countenance. 

"I'm  sure  I  put  it  on  the  chair,"  said  his  wife,  run- 

285 


Wtggles<worth 


ning  upstairs.  "There  it  is  now  1  "  she  cried,  lifting 
her  husband's  coat  that  he  had  lately  cast  down.  "  I 
knew  it  was  on  the  chair." 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  knew,"  retorted  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
snatching  the  shirt  from  his  wife's  hands.  "Mrs. 
Wigglesworth,  the  Human  Encyclopedia.  Futures 
peered  into  at  reduced  rates." 

"  Shall  I  help  you,  dear  ? "  cooed  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth. 

But  Mr.  Wigglesworth  maintaining  a  dignified 
silence,  as  husbands  do,  she  withdrew. 

"  Remember  the  new  leaf,"  she  said,  playfully,  as 
she  went  out. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  punched  a  stud  at  the  solid  and 
implacable  face  of  the  shirt,  and  the  shirt  slipped 
from  his  grasp  and  fell  to  the  floor.  Also  the  stud. 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  hastily  set  his  heel  into  the  shirt 
bosom,  but  the  stud  was  smaller  and  eluded  him.  It 
has  continued  to  do  so  ever  since. 

"  Why,  Ellery  Wigglesworth,"  reproved  his  wife 
from  the  upper  hall.  "  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  to 
use  such  language  in  your  own  house." 

"  You  go  down  stairs,  will  ye  ? "  returned  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth in  a  condensed  voice. 

Fifteen  minutes  later  Imogene,  passing  the  door 
and  glancing  in,  was  startled  to  see  what  appeared  to 
be  a  headless  monster,  eight  feet  high,  without  hands 
but  possessing  legs  that  looked  like  the  legs  of  Mr. 
Wigglesworth,  revolving  about  the  room  and  clawing 
down  chandelier  globes  and  pictures  of  great  value. 

286 


Swore  Off 

With  more  than'  ordinary  intelligence  Imogene  gave 
one  piercing  shriek  and  fell  down  the  front  stairs,  en- 
countering Mrs.  Wigglesworth  on  the  first  landing. 

"  Don't  go  up  1 "  yelled  the  girl,  her  teeth  knocking 
together.  "  It's  something  broke  out  of  somewhere." 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  saw  what  it  was  in  an  instant. 
In  his  nervous  haste  Mr.  Wigglesworth  had  buttoned 
the  neck  and  wrists  of  his  shirt  before  essaying  to  get 
into  that  garment.  Thousands  of  men  have  made  the 
same  mistake  but  few  have  ever  combined  it  with  a 
New  Year's  resolution. 

"  Oh,  Ellery  1 "  wailed  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  as  his 
handless  arms  struck  down  a  favorite  mantle  vase. 

"  Let  me  out  of  here !  "  roared  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
his  voice  coming  horribly  from  the  interior  of  the 
shirt.  "Take  this  thing  off,  can't  ye?  What  ye 
mean,  sewing  me  up  this  way  like  a  gash-flummuxed 
old  mummy  ?" 

Then  he  fell  over  a  hassock  and  went  careering 
into  the  bureau.  It  was  a  tall  and  exceedingly  heavy 
mahogany  bureau  with  brass  knobs  and  drawers  that 
sometimes  opened  by  pulling  on  them  a  long  time. 
The  bureau  was  a  family  heirloom  and  had  come 
down,  so  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  used  to  tell  her  callers. 
It  never  came  down  any  more  than  it  did  this  time. 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  took  a  long,  rooting  plunge  from 
the  hassock,  butted  the  bureau  on  its  weakest  leg, 
and  before  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  could  scream  twice  it 
was  over  on  him. 

Then  all  you  could  see  for  a  few  moments  was  a 

287 


How  Wiggles(worth 


pair  of  fashionably  attired  legs  cutting  arabesques  in 
the  atmosphere,  accompanying  a  muffled  voice  that 
came  from  under  the  bureau  and  froze  the  blood  of 
the  hired  girl. 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  assisted  by  that  young  lady, 
lifted  long  and  earnestly  at  the  bureau,  and  when 
they  got  it  up  high  enough  all  the  drawers  fell  out  at 
once  and  entwined  Mr.  Wigglesworth  in  a  maze  of 
feminine  adornments.  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  pulled  the 
offending  shirt  from  his  head  and  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
got  his  feet  under  him. 

"You're  a  pretty  thing,  ain't  ye?"  he  shouted  with 
his  earliest  breath,  "getting  me  to  make  a  fool  New 
Year's  resolution  and  then  sewing  up  my  shirt  fronts 
and  trying  to  strangle  me  to  death.  Want  my  life 
insurance,  don't  ye  ?  " 

"  Why,  Ellery,"  expostulated  his  wife,  "  you  your- 
self said " 

"  Shut  your  face  1 "  snapped  Mr.  Wigglesworth. 


288 


Chapter  XXXII 

How  WigglesvDorth 
Went  Into  Society 


"  '  Mind  the  lamp,'  warned  their  host,'  "  —  Page  297, 


CHAPTER  XXXU.-How  Wigglesworth  Went 
Into  Society 

'  ~JT  'VE  got  a  surprise  for  you,"  said  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  archly  as  she  poured  her  husband's  tea. 
"That  so?"  gloomed  Mr.  Wigglesworth 

-*-  whose  day  at  the  office  had  been  a  rugged 
one ;  "  some  more  of  them  bills  of  yours,  I  s'pose. 
Been  coming  in  on  me  a  steady  stream  since  the  year 
opened." 

"  We're  invited  out  this  evening,"  said  Mrs.  Wig- 
glesworth, with  a  little  note  of  triumph. 

"Mumphl"  returned  her  husband,  biting  into  his 
toast ;  "  that's  a  dandy  old  surprise,  ain't  it  ?  What 
ye  think  I  care  about  that  ?  Don't  ye  s'pose  I'm  tired 
enough  already,  without  standing  around  at  a  church 
sociable  watching  a  lot  of  you  old  females  playing 
button  ?  " 

"  It  is  n't  that  at  all,"  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  explained ; 
"it's  Mrs.  Wetherbee.  She  wants  us  to  come  over 
and  spend  the  evening  playing  whist." 

"  I  won't  do  it  1  "  returned  Mr.  Wigglesworth  de- 
fiantly ;  "  don't  I  tell  ye  I  'm  tired's  a  dog  ?  Think  I 
want  to  give  up  the  evening  telling  you  what's  trumps  ? 
Not  much,  I  don't." 

"That's  just  what  Mrs.  Wetherbee  said,"  protested 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth  ;  "she  said  she  supposed  you  were 
working  extra  hard  at  the  office  and  a  little  relaxation 
would  do  you  good." 


Ho<w  Wigglesworth 


"  Oh,  yes,"  retorted  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  "that 's  her 
confounded  impertinence.  Ever  since  them  Wether- 
bees  had  a  little  money  left  'em  they  're  so  stuck  up 
you  can't  touch  'em  with  a  pole.  That 's  just  their 
way  to  come  around  twitting  me  with  having  to  work 
for  a  living.  I  despise  such  people  ! "  and  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth, throwing  his  napkin  in  his  chair  and  growl- 
ing loudly,  went  up  stairs. 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  retired  to  the  sitting-room  and 
gave  way  to  a  few  tears.  Then  she  sought  relief  in 
a  magazine  and  was  just  regaining  some  serenity  of 
mind,  when  her  husband,  in  the  full  possession  of  a 
stand-up  collar  and  his  Sunday  clothes,  appeared  in 
the  door. 

"Ain't  ye  going?"  he  called,  noting  his  wife's  ease 
of  manner. 

"Going?"  faltered  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  "I  thought 
we  'd  given  it  up." 

"Given  it  up  nothing!"  returned  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth  ;  "  did  n't  you  say  we  were  invited  out  ?  What 
ails  ye,  anyway?  Ain't  ye  willing  anybody  should 
have  a  good  time  ?  Think  I  want  to  stay  cooped  up 
in  the  house  every  night  after  slaving  my  life  away  in 
that  old  office  ?  What  ye  want  to  act  so  selfish  for  ? " 

"Why  —  I'm  sure  — "  stammered  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth. 

"Oh,  yes,  you're  sure,"  interrupted  her  husband 
with  husband-like  sarcasm.  "Why  don't  ye  go  get 
your  clothes  on,  if  you  're  going  to,  and  not  set  there 
all  the  evening  arguing  ? " 

292 


Went  Into  Society 


Stunned  with  her  husband's  reasoning  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  hastened  her  preparations  with  such  earnest- 
ness as  to  burn  a  long  red  streak  down  her  forehead 
with  the  curling  iron. 

"  Delighted  to  see  you ! "  gushed  Mrs.  Wetherbee 
as  she  greeted  them  at  the  front  door.  "  Oh,  take 
care  —  the  floor's  dreadfully  slippery!" 

This  warning  was  evoked  by  the  unexpected  con- 
duct of  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  whose  heels  had  accumu- 
lated little  balls  of  ice,  and  who,  the  instant  he  struck 
the  polished  floor,  slid  violently  across  the  hall  and 
fell  into  the  hat  tree. 

"Oh,  Ellery!"  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  with  a 
little  scream,  "  did  it  hurt  you  ? " 

"  Shut  your  head,  can't  ye  ?  "  replied  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth  in  a  condensed  voice,  as  he  struggled  to  his 
feet ;  "  what's  the  use  to  make  such  a  fool  of  your- 
self?" 

The  difficulty  of  regaining  his  feet  and  the  ne- 
cessity of  muttering  these  remarks  in  a  subdued  tone 
imparted  a  remarkable  color  to  Mr.  Wigglesworth's 
features. 

"Glad  to  see  you!"  said  Mr.  Wetherbee  in  a 
hearty  tone  of  welcome,  as  they  shook  hands. 

"  Yes,"  chirped  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  "  I  told  Ellery 
on  the  way  over  that  you  would  be  glad  to  see  him. 
You  know,  he  doesn't  go  into  society  much,  but  I'm 
sure  if  he  would  go  more  he'd  get  as  used  to  it  as 
anybody  and  enjoy  it  awfully." 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  shook  his  head  in  feeble  depreca- 

293 


Wlgglestworth 


tion  and  embellished  his  face  with  a  sour  smile.  Any- 
body knowing  him  intimately  could  have  guessed  that 
what  he  desired  most  was  an  opportunity  to  speak  to 
his  wife  in  private. 

"Let  us  play  against  each  other  at  first,"  said 
Mrs.  Wetherbee,  arranging  the  card  table ;  "Wiggles- 
worth  versus  Wetherbee." 

"  Oh,  that  will  be  ever  so  nice  1 "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth,  clapping  her  hands  ;  "  then  Ellery  can 
tell  me  what  to  play." 

Wetherbee  dealt  and  Mr.  Wigglesworth  led.  Mrs. 
Wetherbee  covered  his  card  with  a  higher  one. 

"  Now,  there  I  "  fluttered  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  "  what 
shall  I  do,  Ellery?" 

"  Play,"  answered  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  laconically ; 
"what  ye  think  ye  had  to  do,  ring  in  a  fire  alarm?" 

"  I  mean,"  pursued  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  knitting 
her  forehead,  "  shall  I  put  on  a  small  one  and  let  them 
take  it,  or  shall  I  play  a  trump?  I've  forgotten  what 
the  rule  says,  it's  so  long  since  I  played." 

So  she  threw  down  a  queen  and  Mr.  Wetherbee 
with  a  chuckle  produced  the  king. 

" There  1"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  "why 
did  n't  I  play  the  ace  ?  " 

"  Impossible  to  say  why  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  did  n't 
play  the  ace,"  coldly  commented  her  husband  as  he 
laid  down  another  card.  If  Mr.  Wigglesworth  was 
happy  he  tried  not  to  show  it. 

"Now  what's  trumps?  "  asked  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
as  her  turn  came  around  again. 

394 


Went  Into  Society 


"  Hearts,"  said  Mrs.  Wetherbee. 

"  Same's  it  was  last  trick,"  added  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
in  a  carefully  selected  tone. 

"Why,  of  course,"  acknowledged  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  ;  "dear  me,  how  stupid  of  me  to  keep  forgetting 
so  often.  Let  me  see  —  hearts.  Who  played  that 
eight  spot  ?  " 

"  I  did,"  replied  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  shortly. 

"And  Mrs.  Wetherbee  played  the  jack,"  chattered 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth ;  "  now  what  I  ought  to  do  is  to  — 
is  it  third  hand  high  or  third  hand  low,  Ellery? 
But  there,  it  is  n't  fair  to  keep  asking  your  partner,  is  it  ? 
Let  me  see  —  hearts  trumps  —  is  it  hearts  trumps? 
—  why,  of  course,  you  just  said  so — lummi-tummi- 
tummi-tee,"  hummed  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  running  her 
eyes  back  and  forth  over  the  cards. 

"  Going  to  play  this  evening  ? "  asked  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  glaring  across  the  table. 

"Why,  of  course,"  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  answered 
with  a  little  laugh,  "  how  stupid  of  me  to  be  so  long. 
But  I'm  so  afraid  of  making  a  mistake.  Mother  used 
to  say  when  I  was  a  girl  that — do  I  have  to  follow 
suit  ?  —  yes,  of  course,  how  silly  of  me  —  hearts  — 
h-e-a-r-t-s  —  mother  used  to  say,  'Emma,  you  take 
so  much  time  making  up  your  mind  that  when  a  man 
does  ask  you,  he'll  go  away  without  an  answer,  and 
you'll  lose  him.'  But  I  didn't,  did  I,  Ellery?"  she 
concluded,  throwing  an  arch  look  at  her  partner. 

"  Why  don't  ye  play  ? "  testily  rejoined  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth ;  "  what  ye  think  it  is,  a  phonograph  per- 
formance ? " 

295 


HOVJ  Wiggleseworth 


Mrs.  Wigglesvvorth  hastily  laid  down  a  card  and 
was  chagrined  to  discover  that  it  was  the  wrong  one. 
The  game  went  on  to  the  utter  discomfiture  of  the 
house  of  Wigglesworth.  Mr.  Wetherbee  was  in  high 
spirits. 

"Tell  ye  what,  Wigglesworth,"  he  said  banter- 
ingly,  as  they  paused  for  ice-cream,  "  you  want  to  get 
up  on  your  card  playing,  or  somebody '11  be  touching 
you  for  your  year's  salary." 

"  Oh,  Ellery  never  would  play  cards  for  money," 
said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  "would  you,  Ellery?" 

"  I  suppose  he  never  plays  except  for  amusement  ?  " 
suggested  Wetherbee,  with  a  laugh,  while  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth writhed  on  the  sofa. 

Mrs.  Wetherbee  now  made  a  little  diversion  on  the 
piano  and  her  husband  volunteered  a  song,  which  he 
sang  in  a  much  bent  over  position  owing  to  his  un- 
familiarity  with  the  music. 

"  Do  play  a  waltz,"  cried  Mrs.  Wigglesworth ; 
"they  are  so  lovely." 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  nodded  her  head  and  tapped 
her  foot  in  time  with  the  music. 

"I  declarel"  she  exclaimed  gayly,  "it  makes  me 
feel  quite  young  again.  Let's  waltz,  Ellery." 

"  Get  out ! "  muttered  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  thrusting 
his  hand  deeper  in  his  pockets. 

"Oh,  but  you  must,"  playfully  insisted  his  wife, 
and  she  dragged  the  unwilling  Wigglesworth  to  his 
feet. 

"That's  the  stuff!"  applauded  Mr.  Wetherbee; 
"  show  us  what  you  're  made  of,  Wigglesworth ! " 

"96 


Went  Into  Society 


Louder  rose  the  strains  of  the  piano  and  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth  reluctantly  began  to  revolve  with  his  wife. 

"  What  ye  want  to  keep  stepping  on  my  feet  for  ?  " 
he  growled. 

"It  —  it  isn't  so  easy  as  it  was  once,"  puffed  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth,  who  was  bobbing  around  with  growing 
violence. 

"Why  don't  ye  keep  even?"  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
sniffed,  "  what  ye  think  ye  are,  a  walking-beam  ?  " 

"Mind  the  lamp !  "  warned  their  host. 

It  was  a  tall  lamp  with  a  huge  yellow  shade  at  the 
top  and  four  claw-like  legs  that  sprawled  over  a  rug. 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth's  vague  recollection  of  her  girl- 
hood dancing  was  taking  her  through  so  eccentric  an 
orbit  that  Mr.  Wetherbee's  warning  was  necessary. 
It  was  also  a  trifle  late.  With  a  loud  scream  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth  felt  her  heels,  out  of  time,  engage  with 
one  of  the  brass  claws,  and  in  a  second  the  lamp  was 
pouring  its  kerosene  into  the  open  heart  of  Mrs. 
Wetherbee's  piano. 

"Don't  ye  give  me  a  word  of  your  back  talk," 
jawed  Mr.  Wigglesworth  as  they  took  their  way  home  ; 
"  here  I  've  gone  and  wasted  a  whole  evening  just  to 
satisfy  your  cravings  for  society,  and  I  hope  you  're 
satisfied.  You  need  n't  go  flaunting  your  Wetherbees 
in  my  face  any  more,"  he  added  in  a  tone  of  disgust. 
"  That  Wetherbee's  a  stuck-up  dude  and  for  two  cents 
I  'd  take  and  knock  his  head  off." 

"  He  must  have  cheated  at  cards,"  said  Mrs.  Wig- 
glesworth, shaking  her  head,  "else  I  don't  see  how 
they  could  beat  us  every  time,  do  you  Ellery  ? " 

297 


Chapter  XXXIII 

How  Wigglesworth 
Caught  the  Train 


"  'Emma,'  he  shouted,  rushing  to  the  head  of  the  stairs, 
where's  them  shirt  studs  ? ' "  —  Page  305. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII.—  Ho<w  Wigglesworth 
Caught  the  Train 

'  ^^^V    H,  Ellery,"  implored  Mrs.  Wigglesworth, 
S  •      "  I  wish  you'd  hurry  up.    Those  things 

^         m      have  got  to  be  put  in  the  satchel,  and  I 
^- — ^        can't  find  my  curling  iron  anywhere." 
"  Don't   get  so  nervous,"   returned  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  calmly,  as  he  folded  back  the  morning  paper. 
"  Ain't  that  a  curling  iron  in  your  other  hand  ?  " 

"  Why,  so  it  is,"  acknowledged  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 

in  surprise.     "  I've  been  hunting  it  ever  so  long  —  but 

there !    I'm  so  excited  I  just  don't  know  what  to  do." 

"  What  ails  ye,  anyway?  "  said  her  husband,  testily. 

"  Anybody'd  think  you'd  never  been  anywhere  before." 

"  I  know,"   owned   Mrs.    Wigglesworth,  "  but  the 

train  starts  in  another  hour,  and  Aunt  Emmeline  will 

be  awfully  disappointed  if  we  don't  get  there." 

"  Poh !  "  commented  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  addressing 
the  chandelier,  "ain't  that  just  like  a  woman  ?  Can't 
make  a  little  twenty-five  mile  trip  without  flying 
around  like  a  hen  with  her  head  off.  Why  don't  ye 
take  things  easy  same's  I  do  ? " 

"  I  wish  I  could,"  replied  his  wife  earnestly.     Then 

she  rushed  into  the  kitchen  to  see  about  the  lunch. 

"  Humph !  "   growled  Mr.  Wigglesworth  after  her. 

"It's  easy  enough  if  you  only  try.     Just  don't  fret 

—  that's  all  there  is  to  it." 

301 


H&w  Wiggles<worth 


Whistling  with  a  man's  cool  indifference  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth  repaired  to  the  shed  to  black  his  boots. 

"Now,  where's  that  brush?"  he  muttered,  as  he 
clawed  around  in  the  box  devoted  to  such  things; 
"  that  boy's  pro'bly  had  it  out  and  lost  it.  Emma  1 " 
he  called  in  a  raised  voice,  "where's  that  blacking 
brush  ? " 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  busied  in  a  distant  room, 
failed  to  hear  him. 

"  Emma ! "  he  bawled  again,  his  face  somewhat 
redder,  " where 've  you  women  folks  hid  that  brush?" 

No  answer  being  vouchsafed,  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
strode  with  much  dignity  across  the  shed,  and  flung 
open  the  kitchen  door  with  a  bang  that  dropped  a  cut 
glass  tumbler  from  the  hands  of  Imogene  to  the  floor. 

"  I'd  like  to  know,"  he  cried,  "how  many  times  I've 
got  to  ask  you  a  question  'fore  I  can  get  an  answer  ? " 

"What 's  that ? "  cried  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  from  the 
front  hall ;  "  is  that  you  speaking,  Ellery  ?  What  are 
you  saying?" 

"  What  am  I  saying  ?  "  repeated  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
with  a  sneer;  "what  ye  s'pose?  Think  I'm  address- 
ing the  county  convention,  don't  ye  ?  Pro  'bly  think 
I'm  Spartacus  advising  the  gladiators  to  strike." 

"For  mercy  sake,  what  Is  it?"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth,  appearing  in  the  door.  "  I  'm  half  dis- 
tracted looking  for  my  gloves." 

"  Don't  ye  go  putting  on  any  of  your  overbearing 
ways  with  me,"  bullied  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  shaking 
his  head.  "  Why  don't  ye  answer  me  when  I  ask  a 
civil  question?" 

30* 


Caught  the  Train 


"  Why,  I  will,"  replied  his  wife  mildly.  "  What  do 
you  want  to  know  ? " 

"I  want  to  know,"  said  Mr.  Wigglesworth  in  a 
clear,  incisive  tone,  "what  you  have  cjone  with  that 
blacking  brush  ?  " 

"Why,  I  haven't  had  it,"  protested  his  wife, 
hurrying  into  the  shed. 

"  Well,  some  fool  has,"  snapped  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
stalking  gloomily  after  her,  "and  then  left  it  some- 
where instead  of  putting  it  in  its  place,  same's  I've 
ordered  so  many  times." 

"  I  saw  you  brushing  your  overcoat  with  it  day  be- 
fore yesterday,"  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  throwing 
anxious  glances  about  the  shed.  "  There  it  is  1 "  she 
exclaimed,  "right  on  the  window-sill,  where  I  saw 
you  using  it.  I  knew  it  was  here  somewhere." 

"  You  knew  a  lot,  you  did,"  said  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
as  he  snatched  the  brush  from  his  wife's  hand. 
"  You  're  the  woman  that  comes  around  in  the  Spring 
getting  up  answers  to  correspondents,  you  are." 

"  I  'm  awfully  glad  I  was  here  to  find  it  for  you," 
cooed  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  "  so  you  could  get  shined 
up  in  good  —  " 

"Why  don't  you  go  into  the  house?"  growled 
Mr.  Wigglesworth,  brushing  savagely  at  his  boots. 
"  What 's  the  use  standing  around  here  doing  nothing  ? 
Got  that  clean  shirt  of  mine  laid  out  ? " 

"  I  declare ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  throw- 
ing up  her  hands.  "  I  knew  there  was  something  I 
had  forgotten  to  remember,"  and  she  hastened  away 

303 


How  Wiggleseworth 


before  her  husband  should  formulate  any  further 
comments. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  brushed  on.  His  boots  seemed 
reluctant  to  take  a  polish,  and  it  was  some  moments 
before  they  agreed  with  his  critical  taste.  Once  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth  ventured  to  open  the  door,  with  a  sug- 
gestion of  the  fleeting  moments,  but  the  countenance 
that  turned  up  at  her  over  her  husband's  shoulder 
stilled  the  words  upon  her  lips.  The  boots  finished, 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  toyed  awhile  with  the  axe  and  the 
kindlings,  and  then  took  a  screw  driver  and  made 
some  vague  passes  at  a  broken  window  lock.  Then 
incidentally  he  took  out  his  watch. 

"  Great  Scott ! "  he  yelled,  bursting  into  the  house, 
"why  didn't  you  tell  me  it  was  twenty  minutes  of 
train  time  ?  Want  to  go  alone,  don't  ye,  and  leave 
me  behind  ?  That's  just  like  your  selfishness.  Where's 
that  shirt  ? " 

Through  the  hall  and  up  the  front  stairs  lunged 
Mr.  Wigglesworth,  throwing  off  his  coat  by  the  way, 
and  dashing  into  the  bedroom  like  a  whirlwind. 

"Got  that  satchel  packed?"  he  shouted,  as  he 
plucked  at  his  necktie. 

"You  —  you  said  you  were  going  to  pack  that," 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth  answered,  faintly. 

"  Pack  that  nothing,"  retorted  her  husband.  "  How 
d'ye  s'pose  I  could  do  all  those  other  chores  and  pack 
satchels?  What  ails  this  gash-flummuxed  old  neck- 
tie?" he  howled,  wrenching  at  it  viciously. 

"  It's  got  tied  in  a  hard  knot,"  said  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth,  coming  to  his  aid.  "  What  shall  I  do  ? " 

3<>4 


Caught  the  Train 


"  Do  ?  "  cried  her  husband.  "Get  it  off,  can't  ye? 
Get  a  cross-cut  saw  and  rip  it  up  the  back  —  any- 
thing!" 

With  trembling  hands  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  cut  the 
tie  with  her  scissors,  and  her  husband  made  a  dive 
for  his  shirt. 

"I'll  see  to  that  satchel  now^"  said  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth,  as  she  darted  down  stairs. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  plunged  into  the  bureau  drawer, 
and  in  three  seconds  had  its  varied  contents  admirably 
mingled.  His  breath  came  short  and  loud,  and  per- 
spiration began  gathering  on  his  forehead. 
'  "  Emma !  "  he  shouted  rushing  to  the  head  of  the 
stairs,  "where's  them  shirt  studs?  Why  can't  ye 
leave  things  where  I  put  'em?  I  saw  'em  in  the 
drawer  only  last  night.  Somebody's  stole  'em." 

"They're  in  the  shirt,"  answered  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth.  "I  put  them  there  so  as  to  save  you  time." 

"Well,  why  did  n't  ye  say  so  ?  "  jawed  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth.  "  What's  the  use  to  do  a  thing  like  that  and 
not  mention  it  ?  " 

Muttering  fiercely,  Mr.  Wigglesworth  clawed  his 
way  into  the  stiffly  starched  shirt,  and  then,  with 
what  speed  he  was  capable  of,  got  into  his  Sunday 
clothes. 

"  Oh,  do  hurry,  Ellery ! "  wailed  his  wife,  "  I  hear 
the  train  whistling  for  the  crossing." 

"Well,  it  won't  come  for  whistling,"  answered  Mr. 
Wigglesworth,  and,  hurried  as  he  was,  he  paused  to 
note  this  little  flash  of  humor.  The  next  instant  he 
was  charging  down  the  stairs. 

305 


Caught  the  Train 


"We  can  make  it!"  he  exclaimed,  jamming  one 
arm  into  his  overcoat.  "Gimme  that  satchel  —  get 
out  of  the  way  —  lemme  show  ye  how  Wigglesworth 
fetches  a  train  when  his  blood's  up ! " 

With  a  flying  bound  Mr.  Wigglesworth  was  down 
the  steps,  his  wife  following.  At  the  foot  of  the 
steps,  on  the  front  walk,  was  Willie  Wiggles  worth's 
sled.  It  was  usually  there,  when  not  on  the  back 
walk.  Mr.  Wigglesworth  forgot  this,  however,  until 
too  late. 

"  It  was  a  dreadful  sight,"  said  the  minister  after- 
wards to  his  wife.  "Brother  Wigglesworth  struck 
the  sled  fairly  with  both  feet,  and  the  sled  instantly 
shot  toward  the  street,  with  inconceivable  swiftness. 
Flinging  the  satchel  —  real  alligator  it  was,  too  — 
wildly  about  his  head,  and  giving  utterance  to  a 
dreadful  whoop,  Brother  Wigglesworth  turned  in  the 
air,  fell  flat  upon  his  back  on  the  sled,  and  then,  with 
remarkable  momentum,  dashed  down  the  walk,  the 
contents  of  the  satchel  strewing  the  way,  and  thrust- 
ing both  his  legs  through  the  picket  fence  with  such 
violence  that  it  took  a  policeman  and  me  five  minutes 
to  get  him  out  of  it." 

The  ministers's  wife  shook  her  head  commiserat- 
ingly. 

"  Poor  man,"  she  said,  thinking  of  the  train. 
"And  did  he  catch  it?" 

"  No  ;"  said  the  minister,  earnestly.  Then,  after  a 
moment's  pause,  he  added  softly,  "  but  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  did." 

306 


Chapter  XXXIV 

Hcnv  Wigglesworth 
Operated  the 
Ladder 


"  Mrs.  Wiggles  worth,  with  a  loud  shriek,  disappeared  from 
view  into  the  neighboring  premises."—  Page  314. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV.  —  Haw  Wigglesworth 
Operated  the  Ladder 


f        ~"^HE    vagrant    autumn    winds,    ruthlessly 

rending    the    dying    leaves   from   their 

boughs,  whirled   them   dizzily  aloft  and 

then  went  away,  leaving  the  larger  part 

of  them  lying  in  the  gutters  of  Mr.  Wigglesworth's 

house.     Then  followed   the   driving   rains,   and   the 

leaves,  in   sodden  masses   packed   themselves  closer 

and  rendered  the  gutters  obsolete. 

What  was  the  surprise  of  Mrs.  Wiggles  worth,  on 
looking  out  of  the  window,  to  sec  her  husband  tack- 
ing up  the  street  under  the  discouraging  weight  of  a 
thirty-foot  ladder.  His  hat  was  jammed  severely  on 
the  back  of  his  head,  an  angry  light  played  upon  his 
features,  and  his  wife  could  read,  even  at  a  distance, 
that  all  had  not  gone  well  with  the  ladder.  Even  as 
she  gazed,  with  amazement  crowning  her  visage,  the 
October  breeze  caught  at  one  end  of  the  ladder  and 
thrust  it  about  so  that  the  other  end  picked  off  the 
bonnet  and  top  hair  of  a  woman  who  was  on  her  way 
to  the  post  office,  and  who  instantly  emitted  a  startled 
scream,  whereupon  Mr.  Wigglesworth  whirled  the 
ladder  around  just  in  the  nick  of  time  to  project  it 
into  the  stomach  of  a  fat  gentleman,  whose  breath 
instantly  shot  out  of  him  with  a  loud  -woof! 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  could  easily  discern  these  par- 
ticulars, and  her  imagination  supplied  the  language 

309          » 


Wigglesworth 


of  the  fierce  altercation  that  immediately  ensued. 
Full  of  kindly  interest  for  her  husband,  she  rushed 
to  the  front  door. 

"  Why  Ellery  I  "  she  cried  in  a  voice  charged  with 
sympathy,  "  what  under  the  sun  have  you  got  there  ?  " 

"  What  ye  s  'pose  it  is  ? "  retorted  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  who  at  that  moment  had  the  ladder  involved 
in  the  gate,  where  it  caught  in  seven  or  eight  differ- 
ent places  at  once;  "think  it's  a  soda  fountain  don't 
ye  ?  Looks  like  a  horseless  wagon,  prob'ly  ? " 

"I  see  that  it's  a  ladder,"  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
in  a  placating  tone,  "but  what  are  you  going  to  do 
with  it?" 

"What  does  anybody  do  with  a  ladder?"  snarled 
Mr.  Wigglesworth,  mashing  a  picket  out  of  the  gate, 
and  then,  as  the  ladder  suddenly  fetched  loose,  strug- 
gling violently  into  the  yard  and  poking  out  a  cellar 
window;  "going  to  use  it  to  sift  ashes  with  of 
course.  Wh'd  ye  s'pose  I  got  it  for,  to  wear  to  a 
masquerade  ball  ? " 

Throwing  the  ladder  to  the  ground  and  kicking  at 
it  once  or  twice  as  a  relief  to  his  feelings,  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth pulled  his  necktie  off  his  shoulder  and 
took  a  critical  survey  of  the  house  eves. 

"  First  thing,"  he  said,  when  his  breath  had  got  to 
playing  regularly  through  his  lungs,  "  is  to  h'ist  the 
thing  up." 

"  You  want  to  get  right  under  it  and  keep  push- 
ing," suggested  Mrs.  Wigglesworth. 

"That's  it,"  returned  her  husband,  "you've  hit  it, 

310 


Operated  the  Ladder 


first  time.  How  to  Find  Out  Things,  by  Mrs.  Wig- 
glesworth,  for  the  use  of  wives  who  want  to  make 
home  attractive  in  spite  of  themselves.  " 

Grasping  the  ladder  at  one  end  he  raised  it  above 
his  head  and  walked  slowly  under  it  until  its  weight 
became  excessive. 

"  Catch  hold  here,  can't  ye  ? "  he  cried.  "  Want  to 
see  the  thing  fall  and  cave  in  my  head?" 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  promptly  lent  assistance,  and 
the  instant  her  husband  felt  the  relief  he  took  down 
his  own  benumbed  arms  and  caressed  them.  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth  endured  the  burden  for  a  few  brief 
seconds  and  then,  with  a  loud  cry,  dropped  her  hold 
and  jumped  away.  The  ladder,  clattering  downward, 
scraped  closely  to  Mr.  Wiggles  worth's  ear,  and  nearly 
broke  off  one  of  his  shoulders. 

When  he  had  recovered  they  called  out  Imogene. 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth  was  shown  how  to  rest  her  weight 
upon  one  end  of  the  ladder  while  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
and  Imogene  should  begin  at  the  other  end,  and  by 
slow  progression  raise  it  against  the  side  of  the  house. 

*Lift!  Lift!  grunted  Mr.  Wigglesworth  to  the 
hired  girl ;  "  don't  leave  it  all  for  me  to  do !  " 

"It's  beginning  to  lift  at  this  end,"  called  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth  in  agitation. 

"  Well,  hold  it  still,"  bawled  her  husband. 

"  I  can't !  "  screamed  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  and  then, 
to  her  horror,  she  felt  herself  slowly  rising  from  the 
ground. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  and  Imogene,  having  penetrated 

311    . 


H&w  Wigglesworth 


beyond  the  centre  of  gravity,  and  serving  as  a  ful- 
crum, the  longer  end  of  the  ladder,  following  the  law 
of  physics,  trailed  downward,  lifting  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  at  the  opposite  extremity.  The  weight  pressed 
awfully  upon  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  but  he  dare  not  loose 
his  hold  for  fear  that  it  all  might  come  down  upon 
him  in  disaster.  Then  he  noticed  his  wife. 

" Get  off  that  ladder  1 "  he  yelled  ;  "what  ye  doing 
up  there !  " 

"I — I  can't  help  it,  Ellery  I  "  screamed  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth,  gripping  tenaciously  at  the  rounds ; 
"  Oh,  do  let  me  down ! " 

"  Let  ye  down  1 "  howled  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  "  how 
ye  s'pose  I'm  stopping  ye?  Boost,  can't  ye?"  he 
hissed  to  Imogene,  who,  with  eyes  stonily  set  in  her 
head,  held  aloft  a  pair  of  red  arms  that  neither 
winced  nor  faltered. 

Staggering  about  in  this  painful  fashion,  a  see-saw 
motion  was  communicated  to  the  ladder,  and  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth  bobbed  slowly  up  and  down  like  an 
old-fashioned  pair  of  steel-yards. 

"  Quit  that  teetering! "  shouted  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
the  veins  of  whose  neck  were  getting  ready  to  burst 
and  run  all  over  his  wilted  collar ;  "  what  ye  think  this 
is,  a  game?  Reckon  it's  a  Sunday-school  picnic, 
don't  ye  ? " 

These  observations  seemed  to  be  forced  out  of  him 
explosively,  as  he  trod  up  and  down  the  soggy  lawn. 
Citizens  going  by  had  to  stop,  astounded  to  see  a  man 
and  woman  balancing  a  ladder  above  their  head  for 

312 


Operated  the  Ladder 


no  ostensible  reason,  and  another  woman  bobbing 
away  upon  one  end  of  it  and  screaming.  A  crowd 
of  these  people  now  lined  the  fence  and  some  of 
them  volunteered  advice. 

"  I  would  n't  stay  up  there  any  longer,"  kindly  ven- 
tured a  benevolent-looking  man  ;  "  that  rocking  motion 
is  certain  to  produce  nausea." 

"It's  an  elopement  —  don't  you  see  it  is?"  put  in 
a  man  with  a  purple  nose.  "  That  old  fellow  under 
the  ladder  caught  her  just  in  time." 

"  She  looks  too  aged  to  be  eloping,"  said  a  man  in 
whiskers. 

"  You  can't  tell,"  retorted  the  purple-nosed  man, 
with  a  shake  of  the  head ;  "  some  of  these  women 
will  do  anything  to  get  married.  " 

"  I  think,"  called  the  benevolent-looking  man,  "  that 
if  you  can  hold  on  for  a  few  moments  longer  I  can 
ring  up  the  hook  and  ladder  company,"  and  he  made 
as  if  he  would  start  off  instantly. 

Some  of  these  remarks  penetrated  to  the  ears  of 
Mr.  Wigglesworth.  Maddened  by  the  dreadfulness 
of  the  situation,  enraged  by  the  thought  that  he  was 
creating  a  scene  that  would  be  certain  to  get  into  the 
papers,  he  put  all  his  strength  into  action  and  with 
his  burden  charged  furiously  up  the  driveway.  At 
the  rear  of  his  lot  rose  a  high  board  fence,  and  with  a 
a  loud  snarl  of  rage  he  aimed  the  ladder  for  it.  The 
upper  end,  with  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  upon  it,  caught 
the  fence  top,  with  its  impetus,  slid  partially  over,  and 
then  its  free  end  flung  itself  into  the  air  and  Mrs. 


Operated  the  Ladder 


Wigglesworth,  with  a  loud  shriek,  disappeared  from 
view  into  the  neighboring  premises. 

"  Hoo-ray !  "  screamed  the  audience  by  the  fence. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  picked  himself  out  of  the  leafless 
rosebush  and  shook  his  fist  at  them  savagely. 

"  If  any  of  you  loafers  will  step  over  in  this  yard," 
he  called,  scowling  fiercely,  "  I'll  take  and  knock  his 
head  off." 


Chapter  XXXV 


Wtggles<wortb 
Skated 


"  '  I'm  going  to  show  ye  how  me  and  Aleck  Dodley  used  to 
do  a  spread  eagle. '  "  —  Page  322. 


CHAPTER  XXXV.- How    Wiggles<worth 
Skated 


I 


heavy  rain  had  overflowed  the  back 
yard  and  the  sudden  freeze  following 
made  a  miniature  ice  pond  of  it.  Over 
this  smooth  surface  Willie  Wigglesworth 
took  his  wobbling  way,  thrashing  his  arms  and  snap- 
ping his  body  to  and  fro  violently. 

"  I  think  Willie  does  very  well,"  approved  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth,  looking  out  of  the  dining-room  window. 

"Poh!"  said  Mr.  Wigglesworth  contemptuously, 
"if  I  couldn't  do  better  than  that  I'd  sell  out.  Me 
and  the  Dodley  twins  were  the  skaters  for  ye  when 
we  were  boys.  Could  n't  none  of  'em  skate  around 
us.  People  used  to  come  and  watch  us,  I  remember. 
You  ought  to  seen  me  cut  a  spread  eagle." 

"  I'm  sure  it  must  have  been  sweet,"  said  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth  ;  "  I'd  like  to  see  you  do  it  now." 

"Well,  I  guess  I  could  do  it,"  said  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth  with  a  boastful  shake  of  the  head  ;  "  but  I'm 
getting  too  old  for  such  things,  I  s'pose."  And  he 
gave  a  little  sigh  of  regret  over  his  lost  youth. 

Willie  at  that  instant  going  down  on  the  back  of  his 
neck  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  hastened  out  with  the  lini- 
ment bottle,  while  her  husband  repaired  to  the  office. 
All  through  his  busy  forenoon  visions  of  that  ice  patch 
went  galloping. 

"  There  1 "  he  exclaimed  with  an  important  air,  lay- 


Wiggleseworth 


ing  a  package  on  the  table,  "  there's  something  that's 
got  the  ginger  right  in  it." 

"  Oh,  what  is  it  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  backing 
away. 

"  Don't  be  scart,"  replied  her  husband ;  "  'twon't 
bite  ye.  What  ye  think  it  is  anyway — tarantulas? 
Reckon  it's  some  of  them  sweet  pickles  of  yours, 
don't  ye  ?  It's  a  pair  of  skates,  that's  what  it  is," 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  triumphantly  concluded. 

"  Ellery  Wigglesworth,"  cried  his  wife,  "  you  don't 
mean  to  tell  me  that  you  are  going  to  skate  ?  " 

"  Why  not  ? "  retorted  Mr.  Wigglesworth  smartly ; 
"ain't  I  got  as  much  right  to  as  anybody?  Wa'n't 
you  saying  so,  this  morning  ?  " 

"Ye  —  es,  of  course,"  hesitated  his  wife;  "but  at 
your  age — and  it's  so  long  since  you  — 

"  Oh,  yes,  there  you  go,"  said  Mr.  Wigglesworth  in 
a  high  key,  "  never  willing  for  me  to  have  any  fun  — 
just  keep  Wigglesworth  slaving  at  the  office  earning 
money  to  support  your  extravagances  —  that's  all  you 
care.  Don't  ye  s'pose  I  like  a  little  relaxation  ?  Think 
I  don't  need  exercise  ?  Want  me  to  fail  up  on  your 
hands  and  be  a  wreck,  don't  ye  ?  That's  all  you  care 
about  me." 

Comforting  himself  with  this  sort  of  after-dinner 
talk  Mr.  Wigglesworth  repaired  to  the  back  yard  and 
busied  himself  with  the  skates.  They  were  the  new- 
fashioned  club  skates  and  Mr.  Wigglesworth  exper- 
ienced considerable  difficulty  in  their  adjustment. 

"What  kind  of  fool  things  are  these  anyway!"  he 

318 


Skated 

muttered,  twitching  at  them  savagely;  "why  don't 
they  have  straps  to  'em,  same 's  they  did  when  I  was 
a  boy  ?  " 

"  You're"trying  to  put  them  on  hind  side  first," 
volunteered  Willie ;  "  they  go  the  other  way." 

"  You  shut  your  head,"  advised  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
"or  I'll  take  and  shut  it  for  ye.  You  boys  nowadays 
are  getting  most  too  smart." 

Willie  meekly  retired  to  the  fence  and  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth  fumbled  on.  Somehow  his  fingers  had  grown 
to  be  two  inches  in  diameter  and  all  feeling  was  gone 
out  of  them.  His  breath,  coming  laboredly,  hung  in 
a  smoking  cloud  above  his  head. 

"  Why  don't  ye  come  out  here  and  help  a  feller  ? " 
he  yelled,  noticing  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  looking  through 
the  window ;  "  what  ye  standing  in  there  for  with 
your  thumb  in  your  mouth  ?  Think  I  want  to  set 
here  till  my  legs  freeze  off  just  to  amuse  you?" 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  came  hastily  forth,  a  shawl 
thrown  over  her  head,  and  with  her  assistance,  and 
some  grudgingly  accepted  advice  from  Willie,  the 
skates  were  finally  adjusted  to  Mr.  Wigglesworth's 
feet.  Then  that  gentleman  made  a  motion  to  stand 
up,  but  appearing  to  think  better  of  it,  hastily  resumed 
his  sitting  posture.  Looking  around  angrily  he  en- 
countered Willie. 

"What  are  you  laughing  at  ?  "  he  demanded  sternly. 

"I  —  I  wasn't  laughing,"  stammered  Willie. 

"Yes  ye  was  too!"  said  Mr.  Wigglesworth  with  a 
threatening  shake  of  his  head.  "Don't  ye  give  me 

319 


How  Wigglesworth 


any  of  your  lip,  young  man,  or  I'll  take  and  dust  that 
jacket  of  yours  till  you'll  think  you've  been  through 
a  steam  carpet  beater." 

With  much  circumspection,  and  steadying  himself 
by  a  grasp  on  his  wife's  skirts,  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
achieved  a  semi-upright  position,  and  then  a  foot  shot 
suddenly  toward  the  zodiac  and  with  extraordinary 
swiftness  he  jarred  the  neighborhood. 

"  What'd  ye  do  that  for  ? "  he  shouted,  shaking  both 
fists  in  the  air. 

"  I  did  n't  do  anything,"  protested  his  wife. 

"  Yes,  you  did  too ! "  cried  Mr.  Wigglesworth ; 
don't  ye  s'pose  I  know  ?  '  Fore  I  was  ready  you  took 
and  twitched  away  and  flung  me  off  my  balance. 
Want  to  see  my  skull  split  open,  don't  ye  ?  Want  to 
have  some  fun  collecting  my  accident  policy,  prob'ly. 
Now  stand  still,  can't  ye,  and  not  act  so  numb." 

Once  more  Mr.  Wigglesworth  attained  his  feet. 
Grasping  his  wife's  arm  firmly  he  made  one  or  two 
uncertain  strokes,  his  body  lunging  forward  at  a  pain- 
ful angle. 

"  Where 's  that  hired  girl,"  he  cried  loudly;  "why 
ain't  she  out  here  doing  some  good  ?  Can't  she  leave 
off  smashing  them  dishes  a  minute  and  do  something 
worth  while?" 

Imogene  now  came  forth.  Imogene's  motto  was  to 
please.  She  came  out  wearing  one  of  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth's  summer  hats. 

"  Here,"  called  that  gentleman  in  a  tone  of  author- 
ity, "come  get  on  the  other  side." 

320 


Skated 

"Wha  —  what  are  you  going  to  do,  Ellery?" 
gasped  Mrs.  Wiggles  worth,  her  strength  nearly  ex- 
hausted with  holding  her  husband  erect. 

"Do?"  replied  Mr.  Wigglesworth  hotly,  "what  ye 
s  'pose  I  'm  going  to  do  ?  Think  I  'm  going  to  revolve 
on  the  flying  trapeze,  don't  ye  ?  Can 't  ye  see  that 
I  'm  out  of  practice  ?  All  I  want  is  a  little  steadying, 
till  I  get  my  hand  in  again,  and  then  I  '11  show  you 
some  cavorting  that'll  make  your  eyes  stick  out." 

With  his  body  bent  uncomfortably  forward  and  his 
elbows  supported  on  either  side  by  his  feminine  as- 
sistants Mr.  Wigglesworth  progressed  slowly  across 
the  yard.  The  woman  next  door  now  put  up  her 
kitchen  window  and  began  to  take  notes. 

"It's — it's  awfully  slippery,"  whimpered  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth,  feeling  the  weight  growing  heavier. 

"  That 's  it  1 "  snapped  her  husband  as  loudly  as  his 
position  would  admit,  "  find  fault  all  ye  can.  If  it's 
slippery  to  you  what  ye  s'pose  it  must  be  for  me, 
boosted  up  here  on  these  gash-flummuxed  old  skates  ? 
Don't  ye  be  so  selfish  —  quit  that!"  he  suddenly 
yelled  to  the  girl  on  his  left. 

"I  —  I  didn't  do  nawthin',"  answered  Imogene. 

"  Yes,  ye  did  too  ! "  jawed  Mr.  Wigglesworth ;  "you 
let  down  your  hold  —  not  that  way  1 "  he  called  again 
as  the  girl  gave  an  energetic  boost,  "don't  ye  see 
them  sudden  jerks  make  my  neck  crack  ? " 

When  they  had  gone  around  the  yard  three  or  four 
times  Mr.  Wigglesworth  had  arrived  at  a  nearly  up- 
right position  and  even  ventured  to  make  a  stroke  or 
two  by  himself. 

321 


How  Wigglesworth 


"  Ah,  that's  the  stuff ! "  he  exclaimed  approvingly  ; 
"that's  the  way  me  and  the  Dodley  twins  used  to  give 
it  to  'em.  Now  look  out  there ! "  he  cried,  his  blood 
mounting  with  sudden  enthusiasm,  "  I'm  going  to  show 
ye  how  me  and  Aleck  Dodley  used  to  do  a  spread 
eagle." 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  instinctively  raised  her  voice  in 
a  note  of  remonstrance. 

"  Don't  try  it,  Ellery,  I  beg  of  you,"  she  said,  but 
her  words  only  spurred  her  husband  on. 

"The  way  to  do  it,"  he  explained,  "is  to  take  three 
or  four  strokes,  then  throw  your  heels  around  back  to 
back  and  sail  ahead." 

Suiting  the  action  to  these  words  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
struck  out  boldly.  The  woman  next  door,  in  explain- 
ing it  afterwards  to  the  reporter,  said  that  when  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  started  to  throw  his  heels  around  he 
must  have  thrown  one  of  them  around  five  or  six 
times,  and  the  other  nearly  twice  as  many,  judging  by 
the  different  directions  that  he  shortly  afterwards  ap- 
peared striving  to  proceed  in.  It  was  awful,  she  said, 
to  hear  the  loud  clicking  of  Mr.  Wigglesworth's 
vertabrae  as  his  body  violently  jack-knifed  back  and 
forth,  and  never,  she  declared  with  a  shudder,  had 
she  seen  such  language  screamed  over  a  back-yard 
fence  as  Mr.  Wigglesworth  gave  utterance  to,  as  with 
his  arms  clawing  at  the  keen  winter  atmosphere  he 
went  hurtling  the  whole  length  of  the  yard  and  dis- 
appeared into  a  collection  of  braided  rugs  hung  out  to 
air,  with  which  he  instantly  involved  himself,  and  then 


Skated 

going  down  with  a  jar  that  was  distinctly  felt  in  the 
neighboring  cellars. 

"  My  darling  Ellery  !  "  screamed  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
rushing  frantically  across  the  ice  and  slipping  heavily 
down  upon  her  fallen  husband. 

"Oh  —  oh  —  oh  — !  "  moaned  Mr.  Wigglesworth  ; 
"  oh,  my  poor  medula  oblongata !  " 

"  He's  wandering  —  he's  out  of  his  head  !"  sobbed 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth  hysterically ;  "  he's  calling  on 
some  Italian  actress." 

Then  Mr.  Wigglesworth  came  back  to  himself. 

"  What's  this  ?  "  he  howled,  pawing  fiercely  at  the 
braided  rugs  ;  "  who  tied  this  gash-flummuxed  old 
relic  around  my  neck  ?  Take  it  away  —  take  it  away, 
I  tell  ye !  " 

Then  he  wrenched  off  the  skates  and  flung  them 
viciously  against  the  fence. 

"  That's  the  way ! "  he  shouted,  struggling  to  his 
feet,  "that's  the  way  I  get  served,  when  I  take  your 
advice." 

"  My  darling  Ellery ! "  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth. 

"  Don't  ye  Ellery  me  !  "  jawed  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
as  he  limped  up  the  steps  ;  "  I  never  tried  yet  to  do 
a  thing  to  please  you  but  I  made  a  fool  of  myself,  and 
the  next  time  you  want  any  skating  done  you 'and  that 
leather-headed  hired  girl  can  go  off  by  yourselves  and 
do  it.  You  know  just  about  enough  between  ye  not 
to  keep  off  the  thin  ice  and  I'd  give  five  dollars  to  be 
there  and  see  ye  do  it." 

And  long  after  the  house  was  closed  the  woman 
next  door  could  still  hear  Mr.  Wigglesworth  rumbling. 

323 


Chapter  XXXVI 

HQ<W  Wigglesworth 
Settled  Woman  s 
Suffrage 


'"The  marshal  will  conduct  him  as  our  welcome  guest  to 
a  seat.'  "  — Page  jjo. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI.— Haw  Wigglesworth 
Settled  Woman's  Suffrage 


r~        ^HE  ladies  of  the  —  the  Saturday  After- 
noon Suffrage  Club  are  going  to  meet 
here   this  —  this   afternoon,"   fluttered 
-*-  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  looking   earnestly 

into  the  coffee  pot,  as  if  there  were  something  par- 
ticular there  demanding  her  attention. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  paused  with  his  knife  half  way 
to  his  mouth  and  shot  across  the  table  a  look  that 
passed  quite  through  his  wife  and  caromed  on  the 
sideboard. 

"The  what  meets  here?"  he  said,  with  emphasis 
on  the  what. 

"Why,  our  —  our  Saturday  Afternoon  Suffrage 
Club,"  stammered  his  wife.  "We  meet  and  discuss 
suffrage,  you  know,"  she  went  on;  "that's  why  we 
call  it  the  Suffrage  Club,  and  we  call  it  the  Saturday 
Afternoon  Suffrage  Club  because  we  meet  on  Satur- 
day afternoons,  you  know." 

"Oh,  yes,"  retorted  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  with  firm 
sarcasm.  "I  see  —  I  understand  that.  Most  men 
would  think  it  was  called  the  Saturday  Afternoon 
Club  because  it  met  on  Monday  morning  and  took  in 
washing,  but  Wigglesworth  knows  better.  Sharp 
fellow,  that  Wigglesworth  —  even  his  wife  sees  that ! 
Well,  what  do  ye  do  when  ye  get  there  ?  Talk  and 
play  whist  during  the  lull  in  conversation  ?  " 

327 


How  Wigglestworth 


"No,"  explained  his  wife,  "we  discuss  questions 
about — about  suffrage,  you  know,  and  —  and — " 

"  There,  there  — that'll  do ! "  croaked  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  loftly  ;  "  that's  enough  —  I  don't  want  to  hear 
another  thing  about  it.  Suffrage  I  S'pose  ye  want 
to  vote,  don't  ye  ? " 

"Why,"  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  timidly  assented,  "we 
think  it  is  no  more  than  right  that  — " 

"  Oh,  yes ;  of  course,"  jeered  her  husband,  "  you  Ve 
got  it  —  you  understand  the  whole  thing  1  Put  you 
and  John  Stuart  Mill  together  and  you  'd  know  it 
pretty  near  all.  Who  belongs  to  this  female  amal- 
gamation of  latter-day  thinkers  ?  " 

"Why,"  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  returned,  knitting  her 
forehead  thoughtfully,  ''there's  Mrs.  Lundley,  and 
Miss  Simmons,  and  Miss  Tosh,  and  Mrs.  Brimley,  and 
Mrs.  Remley  Hemingway,  and  ever  so  many  more. 
And  they  said  they  did  hope  you  would  be  present 
and—" 

"  Me  ! "  cried  Mr.  Wigglesworth  ;  "  me  be  present  ? 
Well,  I  guess  not  I "  he  added  grandly  ;  "  hope  I've 
got  more  sense  than  to  go  prancing  round  after  a 
parcel  of  bald-headed  females  in  glasses.  Want  to  get 
me  to  head  a  petition,  I  s'pose  ?  Think  I'd  be  a  good 
hand  to  present  a  preamble  and  four  resolutions  to 
the  state  convention,  don't  they?  Well,  they  can't 
catch  old  Wigglesworth  with  none  of  that  foolishness, 
I  may  not  be  so  old  as  some  of  these  women,  but  I 
bet  I  know  as  much  !  " 

"  They  said  they'd  be  very  much  —  much  flattered 

328 


Settled  Woman  s  Suffrage 


if  you'd  come,"  cooed  his  wife.     "They  said  your 

your  experience  and  practical  view  of  —  of  things 
would  be  of  great  value,  and  they  really  did  hope  you 
would  honor  them." 

"Pooh  I  pshaw  1  great  lots!"  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
sniffed,  but  the  shaft  of  flattery  got  under  his  armor, 
and  he  went  to  the  office  carrying  his  head  a  little 
higher  than  usual. 

"  B'George  1"  he  said  to  himself,  smiting  the  desk 
and  grinning,  "it  would  serve  them  smart  Aleck 
women  right  to  go  there  and  hear  some  of  their  fool 
talk  and  then  get  up  and  let  daylight  into  them  I  " 

The  more  Mr.  Wigglesworth  turned  this  about  in 
his  mind  the  more  fun  it  appeared  to  promise  him, 
and  people  who  understood  the  operation  of  that 
gentleman's  reasoning  powers  could  readily  compre- 
hend why,  shortly  after  the  club  hour,  he  was  seen 
skipping  jauntily  up  his  own  front  doorsteps  and  let- 
ting himself  into  the  hall.  His  idea  was  to  create  a 
sensation  by  walking  in  on  the  ladies,  and  by  his 
ease  of  manner  and  lofty  carriage  to  dwarf  their  pre- 
sumptuous proceedings  into  proper  insignificance. 
These  were  not  exactly  his  words,  but  they  contain 
the  idea. 

But  when  he  opened  the  parlor  door  and  stepped 
inside,  his  haughtiness  was  instantly  lowered.  The 
president  of  the  meeting,  well-dressed  and  of  com- 
manding presence,  was  speaking,  and  at  the  swinging 
of  the  door  she  turned  and  surveyed  the  conquering 
Wigglesworth,  balancing  her  gold-rimmed  glasses 
daintily  in  her  fingers. 

329 


H&w  Wigglesworth 


"  It  is  rather  unusual,"  she  said  with  remarkable 
self-possession,  "  for  our  proceedings  to  be  interrupted 
in  this  summary  manner,  but  naturally  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth —  for  I  presume  it  to  be  the  husband  of  our 
hostess  —  could  not  have  been  acquainted  with  our 
rules.  The  marshal  will  conduct  him  as  our  welcome 
guest  to  a  seat." 

A  trig  little  woman  with  black  eyes  and  the  pret- 
tiest red  cheeks  in  the  world  took  the  noble  Wiggles- 
worth  in  tow,  and  marched  him,  in  the  face  of  two  or 
three  dozen  amused  women  to  the  front  of  the  apart- 
ment. The  lordly  Wigglesworth,  the  pride  of  his 
carriage  all  pulled  out  of  him  by  this  ordeal,  after 
stepping  on  his  own  feet  and  confusedly  begging  his 
own  pardon,  slunk  into  a  chair.  Then  he  saw  that 
he  was  close  under  the  president's  eye,  and  also  fac- 
ing every  woman  in  the  room.  Taking  out  his  hand- 
kerchief he  mopped  his  forehead  gingerly. 

Then  the  proceedings  went  on,  while  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth  stole  furtive  glances  about  the  room.  What  he 
saw  did  n't  tend  to  restore  his  sunken  spirits.  The 
ladies  were  immaculately  dressed  ;  they  presented  an 
assured  bearing  that  the  entrance  of  a  man  had  failed 
in  the  least  to  dash,  and  he  caught  now  and  then  a 
laughing  eye  bent  in  his  direction.  This  operated  to 
set  his  garments  still  more  closely  to  him. 

"  Naturally,"  the  president  resumed,  when  the  con- 
fusion had  subsided,  "  in  pursuing  our  desire  for  the 
exercise  of  the  ballot,  we  do  not  expect  instantly  to 
impress  our  opinions  upon  the  men  —  the  lords  of 

330 


Settled  Woman  s  Suffrage 


creation,"  she  added  lifting  her  eyebrows  slightly  in 
Mr.  Wigglesworth's  direction.  "But  we  must  per- 
severe, we  must  be  patient.  Many  of  us  are  growing 
in  the  knowledge  of  this  movement.  Let  me  urge 
upon  you  the  wisdom  of  obtaining  from  our  opponents 
always,  when  possible,  their  reasons  why  the  ballot 
should  be  withheld  from  us.  This  will  inevitably  fur- 
nish material  for  thought,  and  thought,  well  directed, 
will  produce  in  you  increasing  strength  of  purpose. 
For  an  illustration,  how  helpful  might  it  not  be  to  us 
if  the  husband  of  our  hostess,  who  has  kindly  con- 
sented to  honor  our  humble  proceedings,  should  deign 
to  give  us,  in  his  own  language,  his  views  upon  the 
woman's  suffrage  movement." 

A  ripple  of  applause  ran  round  the  room  at  this 
suggestion.  Mr.  Wigglesworth  felt  all  the  blood  in 
his  system  charge  into  his  head  and  then  die  away, 
just  as  the  lid  seemed  about  to  burst  off.  He  saw 
the  president  gazing  at  him  with  a  mingled  air  of 
kindness  and  amusement.  The  other  women  seemed 
to  be  whirling  about  the  room  in  a  circle,  like  a  re- 
volving toy  that  he  remembered  once  looking  into. 

«I I er  —  you — er  —  blm!  blml"  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth exclaimed,  clearing  his  throat  with  great 
effort ;  "you  will  —  er  —  not  —  not  —  er  —  being  — ' ' 
and  then,  with  a  little  helpless  rattle,  his  voice  stag- 
gered across  the  carpet  and  expired  under  the  maho- 
gany table. 

"Perhaps  later,"  the  president  suggested,  "when 
the  other  speakers  have  tried  to  give  voice  to  their 


H&w  Wigglesworth 


somewhat  crude  opinions,  Mr.  Wigglesworth  will  find 
something  more  worthy  of  his  attention.  I  confess 
that  up  to  this  moment  he  has  seen  nothing  that  has 
made  it  worth  his  while  to  address  us." 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  tried  to  resurrect  his  wilted  col- 
lar, as  he  looked  uneasily  at  the  piano.  He  would 
have  given  a  dollar,  or  more,  for  a  friendly  glance 
from  his  wife,  but  that  lady  was  on  the  outer  edge  of 
the  company  and  inaccessible. 

"  My  husband  says,"  began  a  woman  in  a  Worth 
gown,  "that  it  won't  do  to  let  the  women  vote,  for 
when  they  do,  he  says,  they  '11  make  the  officers  en- 
force the  prohibitory  law,  and  that  will  hurt  business." 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  recalled  that  he  and  his  next- 
door  neighbor  had  come  to  the  same  conclusion  only 
the  week  before. 

"  Thirty  years  ago,"  said  a  tall  woman  in  gray  hair, 
"I  married  my  husband,  who  was  then  a  poor  but 
honest  man,  and  he  has  frequently  been  that  way 
since.  The  times  that  he  prospers  best  are  those  in 
which  he  is  governed  by  my  suggestions." 

A  wave  of  applause  broke  forth  at  this. 

"  I  hope,"  the  president  blandly  commented,  with 
another  glance  at  the  withered  Wigglesworth,  "that 
this  remark  of  our  sister  may  not  be  deemed  pre- 
sumptuous. I  doubt  not  that  every  woman  present 
understands  how  often  her  husband  comes  to  her  for 
advice.  Intuitively  she  discerns  the  course  that  is 
best.  Her  advice  follows  swiftly,  but  it  is  oftenest 
right,  and  if  acted  upon,  the  husband  prospers.  Walk- 

333 


Settled  Woman's  Suffrage 


ing  about  our  streets  today  are  men  counted  rich  and 
successful,  men  who  but  for  their  wives'  unerring 
judgment  would  be  lying  shipwrecked.  And  it  is 
oftenest  this  sort  of  man,  the  one  that  leans  upon  his 
wife  steadfastly,  who  laughs  to  utter  scorn  the  sug- 
gestion that  she  should  be  intrusted  with  voting  power. 
No  man,  I  am  sure,  has  remarked  this  more  clearly 
than  our  guest  of  the  afternoon,  and  the  club  will  now 
consider  itself  honored  if  Mr.  Wigglesworth  will  kindly 
explain  to  them  how  it  appears  to  him." 

Alas !  that  the  historian  should  have  to  chronicle  it. 
What  shall  the  harvests  be,  if  the  lists  thus  broadly 
open,  no  champion  rides  forth?  Where  now  the  in- 
vincible Wigglesworth,  his  quips,  his  gibes,  his  ready 
flow  of  speech?  This  was  the  opportunity  he  had 
looked  forward  to  —  this  the  exact  moment  to  lift  his 
trenchant  blade  of  speech  and  "  let  daylight  into  them. " 
The  western  sun  slanted  in  at  the  parlor  window  and 
rippled  upon  the  wall.  But  the  daylight  of  Mr.  Wig- 
gles worth's  furnishing  was  elsewhere.  Sometimes  into 
every  man's  life  such  tragedy  comes. 

When  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  came  back  from  the  hall, 
having  bade  the  last  member  good-bye,  she  found  her 
husband  still  sitting  in  the  chair.  His  air  of  utter 
dejection  alarmed  her. 

"  Are  you  ill,  Ellery  ? "  she  anxiously  cried,  running 
across  the  room  with  outstretched  hands. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  sprang  to  his  feet,  a  more  than 
roused  lion. 

"  Don't  ye  lay  a  finger  on  me !  "  he  shouted,  grab- 

333 


Wiggtes<wortf) 


bing  up  a  gilt  subscription  volume  of  poems  and  dash- 
ing it  into  the  piano,  where  it  made  a  horrible  grinding 
with  the  bass  strings ;  "  what  ye  think  ye're  trying  to 
act  out,  anyway,  with  your  old  collection  of  fossil 
remains?  Want  me  to  go  on  a  red-headed  ticket, 
don't  ye,  and  haul  female  voters  to  the  polls  ?  What 
ye  trying  to  do,  filling  this  house  full  of  fat  old  eman- 
cipated women  with  spectacles?  Spectacles!"  he 
snorted  with  concentrated  scorn,  and  elated  by  the 
clever  turn  of  his  humor,  "  that's  just  what  they  are, 
and  the  worse  the  more  of  it !  S'pose  you  '11  be  want- 
ing a  little  suit  of  bloomers  next,  won't  ye,  and  go 
pawing  round  on  a  bicycle  1  Ya-a-a-h-h  1 "  he  yelled, 
as  thought  of  the  afternoon's  roasting  smote  upon 
him,  "  you  think  it  all-fired  cunning  to  get  a  mess  of 
old  maids  rubbing  their  mud  off  on  this  new  carpet 
and  trying  to  look  intelligent,  but  you  need  n't  think 
you  can  fool  old  Wiggles  worth.  I  saw  through  ye 
from  the  start  1  You  thought  you  was  going  to  get 
me  to  make  a  speech  and  blow  the  stuffing  out  of 
their  fool  remarks  —  and  I  could  have  done  it,  too,  in 
less  than  a  jiffy  —  and  then  they  'dhave  gone  waltzing 
round  town  saying  Wigglesworth  insulted  them  in  his 
own  house,  and  so  make  political  capital  out  of  it  and 
get  sympathy,  but  you've  got  to  get  up  in  the  morn- 
ing, I  tell  ye,  the  whole  kit  and  bilin'  of  ye,  if  you 
expect  to  play  them  little  games  on  Wigglesworth. 
None  of  yoUr  back  talk  round  herel"  he  shouted,  as 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth  opened  her  mouth  ;  "  you  can  jaw  all 
you  want  to  with  your  long-necked  old  suffragists,  but 

334 


Settled  Woman  s  Suffrage 


I  want  ye  to  understand  that  in  this  house  I'm  the 
boss,  and  the  public  wants  to  be  acquainted  with  it." 

And  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  said  to  the  neighbor  who 
came  in  that  evening  to  borrow  some  yeast,  that  she 
never  had  known  Ellery  to  have  such  a  flow  of  language. 


335 


Chapter  XXXVII 

How  Wigglesworth 
Renewed  his 
Boyhood 


It  was  a  snowball  with  a  marble  heart." — Page 341. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII.— How  Wigglesworth 
Renewed  His  Boyhood 

"T  DECLARE,"  said  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  who 
was  looking  out  of  the  front  window,  "  if  that 
does  n't  make  me  feel  like  a  boy  again  1 " 

-*-  In  the  vacant  lot  across  the  street  the 
boys  of  the  neighborhood,  his  own  among  the  number, 
had  cast  up  the  walls  of  a  snow  fort,  and  now  a  fine 
mimic  battle  was  raging.  Mr.  Wigglesworth  noted  the 
life  and  action  and  his  blood  moved  quicker.  A  man's 
blood  will  do  that  way  when  his  youth  comes  back  to 
him.  He  recalled  that  Napoleon  fought  snow-fights 
at  Brienne. 

"  B'George !  "  he  exclaimed  with  a  shuffle  of  his 
feet,  "  if  I  have  n't  two  minds  to  go  out  and  give  those 
boys  a  try  myself." 

"Don't  you  think  you  might  take  cold ?"  chirped 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  who  was  looking  over  his  shoul- 
der. 

That  settled  it.  All  Mr.  Wigglesworth  wanted  was 
his  wife  to  file  an  objection. 

"  Ba-h-h-h  !  "  he  growled,  instantly  hoisting  his  voice 
to  a  high  key  ;  "  you're  always  wanting  me  to  muffle 
up  and  totter  and  drop  into  the  tomb.  Think  you're 
going  to  get  my  life  insurance,  don't  ye  ?  Where's  my 
mittens  !  "  And  the  next  instant  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
was  sliding  down  the  front  stoop  and  plowing  across 
the  yard  on  his  back,  having  slipped  in  his  haste  as  he 

339 


Hoew  Wigglesnuarth 


came  through  the  door.  The  boys  saw  him  and  stayed 
the  battle  for  a  moment. 

"  Who's  de  cove  in  de  red  mittens  ?  "  cried  one  of 
them. 

"  It's  pa,"  shouted  Willie  Wigglesworth,  as  the  old 
man  struggled  to  his  feet.  "Hooray,  pa  —  look  at 
our  tort  1  " 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  picked  his  enthusiasm  out  of  the 
snow  and  said : 

"  Boys,  I  remember  when  me  and  the  Dodley  twins 
had  forts  all  one  winter,  and  I'm  going  to  show  you 
lads  how  us  old  fellows  used  to  run  a  fight." 

"  Whoo-pee  1  "  yelled  the  boys. 

"  That's  it  1  "  cried  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  enthusiasm 
mounting.  "  I'll  stand  the  whole  crowd  of  ye.  Get 
into  the  fort  there,  and  look  out  for  me,  for  down 
come  the  walls  at  the  first  onslaught." 

Nuts  for  the  boys  ?  If  the  slang  may  be  pardoned 
that's  exactly  what  it  was.  With  a  yell  they  got  in- 
side the  fort,  and  the  boy  with  two  front  teeth  miss- 
ing instantly  lodged  a  snowball  against  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth's  prominent  adam's  apple. 

"  Who  did  that  1 "  he  shrieked,  as  the  fractured 
snowball  slid  down  inside  his  shirt-bosom.  "  Don't 
ye  see  I  was  n't  ready  ?  " 

Nobody  volunteering  an  answer  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
swallowed  his  passion  and  hastily  rolled  up  some  balls 
of  snow. 

"  You  boys,"  he  said,  as  he  ostentatiously  went 
through  these  preparations,  "are  too  slow.  You 

340 


Renewed  His  Boyhood 


stand  off  and  discharge  projectiles  at  each  other,  but 
what  does  that  amount  to  ?  What  I  propose  to  do  is 
to  carry  your  works  by  assault,  y'understand,  same's 
I  used  to  do  with  the  Dodley  twins.  I  give  ye  fair 
warning,  you  see,  because  I'm  a  man  and  don't  want 
to  hurt  ye.  Once  I  get  inside  your  fort  you  must 
scatter,  else  of  course  I'll  have  to  fire  you  out.  Now 
look  out,  for  the  old  man's  coming,  and  death  rides 
on  the  gale." 

The  poetry  of  battle  mounted  in  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth's  imagination  as  he  shouted  these  warning 
words,  and  then  he  charged  forward.  It  never  was 
clearly  explained  to  him  what  next  took  place.  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth,  who  was  looking  on  from  the  window, 
said  that  for  an  instant  the  sun  was  obscured  by  two 
million  snowballs  that  issued  from  the  fort,  every  one 
of  which,  she  thinks,  struck  Mr.  Wigglesworth  on  the 
head. 

That  was  subsequently  understood  to  be  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth's  opinion  also. 

Half-way  up  to  the  fort,  her  deposition  continues, 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  encountered  quicksands  in  the 
form  of  yielding  snow,  into  which  he  sank  so  deeply 
that  his  line  of  attack  wavered.  This  gave  opportu- 
nity for  the  beseiged  to  discharge  another  volley, 
wherein  was  displayed  the  almost  superhuman  accur- 
acy of  aim  of  the  boy  with  two  front  teeth  missing. 
It  was  a  snowball  with  a  marble  heart,  the  marble 
having  been  frozen  into  it  over  night,  and  it  flattened 
Mr.  Wiggles  worth's  nose  so  closely  to  his  face  that 

34i 


Wiggles<worth 


his  own  family  never  could  have  picked  him  out 
among  the  dead. 

A  man  chopping  wood  over  behind  the  mountain 
put  a  piece  in  the  local  paper  stating  that  he  distinctly 
heard  Mr.  Wigglesworth's  yell.  It  was  a  clear,  frosty 
day,  when  sound  travels  a  great  distance. 

"Who  fired  that  rock?"  screamed  Mr. 'Wiggles- 
worth.  He  was  answered  by  a  cheer  and  another 
volley.  Willie  Wigglesworth  was  overheard  by  a 
comrade  who  stood  next  in  line,  a  boy  with  freckles 
but  said  to  be  quite  truthful,  to  hiss  between  his 
smoke-begrimed  lips  that  he'd  give  two  cents  to  plug 
one  into  the  old  man's  ear,  and  the  boy  afterwards 
stated  that  the  feat  was  accomplished,  and  claimed  the 
two  cents. 

The  historian  has  to  confess  that  the  vehicle  of  nar- 
rative is  inadequate  to  the  rapid  action  of  the  scene 
which  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  with  bated  breath  now  wit- 
nessed from  the  window.  Her  husband,  she  states, 
appeared  to  have  abandoned  his  intention  of  showing 
how  battles  were  won  in  the  days  of  the  Dodley  twins, 
and  she  judged  by  the  frenzied  manner  in  which  he 
plucked  his  legs  out  of  the  clinging  snow  and  lashed 
the  atmosphere  with  his  arms  and  uttered  remarks 
that  it  were  not  fit  for  women  to  hear,  though  she  lis- 
tened as  carefully  as  she  could  and  even  tried  to  get 
the  window  open,  but  it  was  frozen  down,  that  his 
purpose  was  to  catch  as  many  boys  as  he  could  in 
his  two  Tiands  at  once  and  pull  their  legs  off,  which 
seemed  to  her  a  horrible  thing  to  do,  but  few  of  us 

343 


Renewed  His  Boyhood 


realize,  unless  we  have  been  there,  and  none  of  us 
have  if  we  could  secure  a  substitute,  what  a  terrible 
thing  war  is. 

But  just  as  he  got  close  under  the  walls  and  was 
reaching  for  a  boy,  Mr.  Wigglesworth  suddenly  disap- 
peared from  the  gaze  of  his  horrified  wife.  The  boys, 
with  a  knowledge  of  warfare  such  as  the  Dodley  twins 
never  dreamed  of,  had  mined  the  snowdrifts  before  the 
walls,  and  when  Mr.  Wiggles  worth's  heavy  weight 
was  projected  upon  the  super-impending  crust,  he 
went  through  without  waiting  a  moment  to  take  breath. 
At  the  bottom  of  the  excavated  space  the  juvenile 
engineers  with  great  ingenuity  had  arranged  a  small 
pond  of  water  in  which  to  freeze  snow-balls,  and  which 
was  found  to  be  large  enough  to  take  in  all  of  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  at  once.  The  boys  then  tipped  the 
walls  of  the  fort  over  on  him,  and  with  three  cheers 
for  the  Dodley  twins  trooped  gaily  away. 

"  Why,  Ellery  ! "  sympathized  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
as  she  held  the  door  open  while  her  husband  dragged 
slowly  up  the  steps  ;  "don't  you  —  " 

"You  get  into  the  house!"  yelled  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  "  and  don't  you  let  me  have  any  more  yap  out 
of  your  head  about  being  young  again.  'F  I'd  gone 
to  the  office  as  I  intended  instead  of  trying  to  sprawl 
around  here  amusing  you  I  'd  been  earning  money 
now  to  support  your  extravagances,  instead  of  looking 
like  a  blamed  fool  for  your  old-maid  neighbors  to  point 
their  crooked  fingers  at.  Prance  me  out  some  dry 
clothes,  d  'ye  hear,  and  don't  be  standing  around  there 
all  day  with  your  hands  in  your  mouth  like  a  gibber- 
in  diot!" 

343 


Chapter  XXXVIII 

H&w  Wigglesworth 
Got  A  Valentine 


"  'Yah-yah-yah,'  snarled  Mr.  Wigglesworth  as  he  slammed 
the  front  door."  —  Page 332. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII.—  How  Wigglesworth 
Got  a  Valentine 


f  "*^HE  door  bell  rang  while  they  were  at 
breakfast,  and  presently  Imogene  came 
in  with  a  letter,  which  she  laid  by  Mrs. 
*  Wigglesworth's  plate. 

"O-o-h-h!"  said  that  lady,  with  a  little  scream  of 
surprise.  "A  letter  for  me!  Why,  who  do  you 
suppose  it  is  from  ? " 

She  turned  the  envelope  over  a  number  of  times 
and  examined  it  from  every  point  of  the  compass. 

"  I  wonder  who  it  can  be  from  ? "  she  repeated, 
with  her  forehead  furrowing. 

"What  odds  does  it  make?"  said  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth,  testily.  "Think  it's  from  the  Ahkoond  of 
Swat,  don't  ye  ?  Prob'ly  an  invitation  from  the  Czar 
to  run  over  and  have  a  game  of  gorf  on  the  ice." 

"You  don't  suppose,"  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth, 
laying  her  hands  on  the  table,  "  that  it's  from  Aunt 
Sarah,  do  you  ?  You  know  she  said  last  Summer  that 
she  might  come  on  and  spend  a  month  or  two  this 
Winter." 

"Well,  she  don't  get  in,  if  she  does!"  violently 
answered  Mr.  Wigglesworth.  "Think  I'm  going  to 
have  that  old  female  around  here  again  talking 
woman's  rights  and  me  having  to  get  up  nights  to 
heat  hot-water  bottles  for  her  neuralgia  ?  Not  much, 
I  ain't,"  growled  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  shaking  his  head 

at  the  sideboard. 

347 


Ho<w  Wigglesworth 


"  But,  no,"  his  wife  went  on,  after  scanning  the 
envelope  from  another  point  of  view,  "  this  can't  be 
from  Aunt  Sarah,  because  the  postmark  is  so  blurred 
that  you  can't  make  out  where  it's  from.  Oh,  dear," 
she  sighed,  "  how  bothersome  such  things  are  1 " 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  sawed  away  at  his  steak. 

"Seems  to  me,"  he  said,  in  a  voice  of  sarcasm, 
"  that  Mrs.  Wiggles  is  more  than  unusually  numb  this 
morning.  Why  don't  ye  look  inside  the  letter  if  ye 
want  to  know  who  its  from.  Think  you're  the  new 
discovery  in  photographing,  don't  ye  ?  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  in  her  great  act  of  looking  into  things  by  a 
process  of  her  own.  Patent  applied  for." 

Taking  a  hairpin  from  the  back  of  her  head,  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth  slipped  it  neatly  under  the  flap  of  the 
envelope.  With  nervous  fingers  she  plucked  forth 
and  opened  to  view  a  gaudily  colored  valentine.  Mrs. 
Wiggles  worth's  countenance  fell. 

"  Pshaw ! "  she  said,  in  a  tone  of  disappointment, 
"it's  a  valentine." 

"That  so?"  answered  her  husband,  blowing  at  his 
coffee.  "  Who's  fallen  in  love  with  you  ?  Mrs.  Wig- 
glesworth and  her  latest  mash.  Guess  I'll  have  to  be 
looking  into  matters." 

"  Ellery  Wigglesworth,"  retorted  his  wife,  severely, 
"you  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself.  You  know 
very  well  that  I  wouldn't  let  anybody  send  me  a 
valentine." 

"  Ain't  he  done  it  ? "  cried  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  ap- 
pealing to  the  sideboard.  "Ain't  she  got  it  right 
there  in  her  hand  ? " 

348 


Got  a  Valentine 


"  It  —  it's  a  comic  valentine,"  sobbed  Mrs.  Wig- 
glesworth,  dashing  it  to  the  floor  and  applying  her 
napkin  to  her  eyes ;  "  and  I  think  it  —  it  is  nothing 
but  an  —  an  insult,  El  —  Ellery  Wigglesworth  —  that 
ought  —  ought  —  " 

"Poh"  interrupted  Mr.  Wigglesworth.  "What's 
the  use  to  get  so  excited  over  a  little  thing  like  that  ? 
Can't  ye  stand  a  little  fun  ?  " 

"I  —  I  guess  you  — you  would  n't  like  it,"  answered 
his  wife,  dabbing  at  her  eyes  with  the  napkin. 

"  There,  there,  Emma,"  said  Mr.  Wigglesworth  in 
a  lofty  manner  ;  "  don't  go  acting  childish.  I  hope  I 
ain't  quite  a  fool.  When  I  get  so  I  can't  stand  a  little 
fun  I  want  some  one  to  take  and  knock  me  in  the 
head.  But  that's  just  like  a  woman,"  he  added,  nod- 
ding again  at  the  sideboard,  "  they  ain't  got  no  more 
idea  of  humor  than  a  cow.  Le's  see  that  thing,"  he 
commanded,  reaching  out  his  hand,  "  le's  see  the  ter- 
rible libel  that  has  upset  the  digestion  of  the  celebrated 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth." 

His  wife  recovered  it  from  the  floor  and  passed  it 
across  the  table. 

"  H'm  1"  said  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  holding  the  val- 
entine critically  at  arm's  length,  "  I  don't  see  any 
thing  the  matter  with  this." 

It  was  a  dreadful  mixture  of  red  and  yellow  ink 
setting  forth  an  unwieldly  looking  individual  in  the 
guise  of  a  distorted  hot-air  balloon,  and  bearing  be- 
neath it  some  ill-rhymed  verses  addressed  to  "  An  Old 
Wind  Bag." 

349 


Ho<w  Wigglesworth 


"  He-he-he  1 "  grinned  Mr.  Wigglesworth. 

"I  —  I  think  it's  real  mean  in  you  to  —  to  laugh," 
said  his  wife,  renewing  her  sobs. 

"  What's  the  use  to  beller  and  take  on  that  way  ?" 
cried  Mr.  Wigglesworth  ;  "  can't  ye  stand  a  little  fun  ? " 

"Not  of  that  sort,"  replied  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 
with  spirit.  "What  right  has  anybody  to  call  me  an 
'  Old  Wind  Bag  1 ' '  And  her  voice  choked  with 
anger. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  chuckled.  Really  it  was  quite 
humorous. 

"  And  look  at  those  lines,"  continued  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  : 

"  You  puff  and  blow  from  morn  to  night 

And  keep  your  family  in  affright, 

But  as  you  swelling  walk  abroad 

The  neighbors  know  you  are  a  fraud  — 

"  And  all  that  —  that  stuff  1  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Wig- 
glesworth, crying  still  harder. 

"  They're  getting  onto  ye,"  he  jeered. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,  Ellery  Wigglesworth," 
demanded  his  wife  sternly,  "  that  those  horrid  verses 
describe  me?" 

"  Why  not  ?  "  retorted  Mr.  Wigglesworth.  "  Don't 
ye  go  getting  on  any  high  horse  with  me.  Its  just 
them  things  that  the  neighbors  are  noticing  in  ye, 
prob'ly,  that's  fetched  out  such  a  valentine.  You 
can't  go  on  always  in  this  way  without  people  finding 
it  out." 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  made  a  grab  at  the  offending 
valentine,  but  her  husband  caught  it  from  her  reach. 

350 


Got  a  Valentine 


It  was  too  good  a  thing  to  have  destroyed  thus  early. 
So  she  snatched  up  the  envelope  instead,  and  would 
have  rent  that  in  twain,  but  her  eyes  fell  upon  the 
superscription,  and  she  stopped  in  surprise. 

"Why,"  she  exclaimed,  "it  isn't  for  me  at  all!" 

"Eh?"  said  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  looking  up  from 
the  valentine,  the  grin  yet  ornamenting  his  features. 

"  I  thought,"  returned  his  wife,  steadily  regarding 
the  envelope,  "that  this  said  *  Mrs.  E.  Wigglesworth.' " 

"  Well,  it  does,  doesn't  it  ? "  answered  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth.  "  What  ye  trying  to  act  out  ? " 

"It  says  'Mr.  E.  Wigglesworth,'"  cried  his  wife, 
breaking  into  smiles.  "  It  is  n't  for  me  at  all."  And 
she  clapped  her  hands. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  snatched  the  envelope  and  glared 
at  it  savagely.  Then  he  dashed  it  into  the  gravy. 

"  I'm  glad  they  didn't  mean  it  for  me,"  purred  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth,  her  face  wreathed  in  smiles,  "  but,  oh, 
Ellery  —  he-he-he  " 

"  He-he-he  1 "  cackled  Mr.  Wigglesworth.  "  What's 
the  use  to  act  like  an  idiot  ?  You  think  it  smart, 
don't  ye,  to  go  and  git  up  a  silly  joke  like  that  ? " 

"Why"  protested  his  wife,  with  a  surprised  air,  "I 
hope  you  don't  think,  Ellery  — 

"It  don't  make  any  difference  what  I  think," 
stormed  Mr.  Wigglesworth  from  the  front  hall,  what 
time  he  was  working  into  his  overcoat.  "I  Ve  done 
nothing  for  all  this  year  but  slave  around  and  support 
you,  and  now  when  this  gash-flummuxed  old  silly 
valentine  season  comes  around  you  take  and  work  up 


Got  a  Valentine 


an  insult  on  me.  You  're  so  mean  that  I  would  n't  be 
seen  getting  a  divorce  from  ye." 

"  Why,  Ellery,"  cried  his  wife,  rushing  toward  the 
hall. 

"  Yah-yah-yah !  "  snarled  Mr.  Wigglesworth  as  he 
slammed  the  front  door. 


353 


Chapter  XXXIX 

Hoew  Wigglesworth 
Went  to  the  Fire 


"'Where's  the  fire?'  ejaculated  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  puff- 
ing violently,  'Wot  fires'  this?'  the  policeman  calmly  made 
reply."  —  Page  359- 


CHAPTER  XXXIX.  —  How  Wigglesworth 
Went  to  the  Fire 


f~        "^HE  cry  of  "  Fire !  "  heard  in  the  still  hours 

at  night    smites   the  ear  with   startling 

force,  and  sickens  the  hearts  of  property 

owners.      Apparently   not    appreciating 

this    fact,  a   bibulous   gentleman,   faring  uncertainly 

past  the  darkened  house  of  Wigglesworth,  lifted  the 

upper  part  of   his  head   with  a  hiccoughing  gesture 

and  projected  his  voice  in  a  strident  shriek : 

"  Fire ! " 

He  then  whooped  once  or  twice  and  disappeared 
on  the  horizon. 

"  Ellery  ! "  cried  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  sitting  up  in 
bed. 

"  Wummpmhm  ?  "  Mr.  Wigglesworth  incoherently 
answered. 

"Get  up  —  get  up  at  once!"  called  his  wife,  shak- 
ing him  violently  ;  "there's  a  fire !  " 

With  one  bound  the  half-awakened  Wigglesworth 
was  in  the  middle  of  the  room  clawing  for  his  gar- 
ments. 

"  What  ye  done  with  my  clothes  ? "  he  exclaimed, 
waving  his  arms  around  in  the  darkness. 

"They're  on  the  chair,  right  where  you  left  them," 
responded  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  making  the  answer 
that  a  wife  always  makes.  "  Oh,  Ellery  I  Where  do 
you  suppose  it  is  ? " 

355 


Ho*w  Wigglesworth 


"How  do  I  know?"  answered  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
roughly.  "I  hung  it  right  on  the  bedpost  when  I 
undressed." 

"I  don't  mean  that,"  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth.  "I 
mean  the  fire.  Where  do  you  think,  Ellery  ? " 

"Where  do  I  think?"  repeated  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
impaling  himself  on  a  bayonet  belonging  to  the 
rocking-chair  and  lifting  his  voice  into  a  shriek. 
"Where  does  anybody  think  that  knows  anything? 
Oh,  my  foot  1  my  foot  1 " 

"What  ails  your  foot  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Wigglesworth, 
straining  her  eyes  through  the  darkness. 

"What  ails  it?"  howled  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  picking 
up  that  poor,  maimed  member  and  hopping  about  the 
room  with  it,  "what  ye  s'pose?  Think  it's  got  the 
measles,  don't  ye  ?  Who  put  that  rocking-chair  'side 
of  my  bed?" 

"  It  is  n't  beside  the  bed,"  returned  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth  earnestly ;  "  it's  way  over  by  the  window." 

"  I  know  better  1 "  yelled  her  husband.  "  I  got  right 
out  of  bed  and  the  very  first  thing  it  up  and  kicked 
me  —  oh,  my  foot  —  my  foot  1"  And  he  swayed  to 
and  fro,  moaning. 

"Can't  you  put  something  on  it?"  suggested  Mrs. 
Wigglesworth,  in  a  voice  of  sympathy. 

"  Put  something  on  it  ? "  snapped  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
angrily;  "ain't  that  what  I've  been  trying  to  do? 
Think  I  'm  going  out  barefooted  ?  Where  ye  hid  my 
stockings  ? " 

"They're  on  the  bureau,"  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth 

356 


Went  to  the  Fire 


"  What  ye  put  'em  there  for  ?  "  growled  Mr.  Wig- 
glesworth,  and  he  crawled  across  the  floor.  Bringing 
his  head  in  contact  with  the  washstand,  he  broke  forth 
afresh. 

" Can't  ye  get  out  of  bed  and  light  that  lamp? "  he 
cried.  "  Think  I  want  to  go  prowling  'round  here  till 
sunrise,  knocking  off  things  with  my  head  ? " 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  thus  adjured,  tottered  with  a 
woman's  unerring  instinct  to  the  bureau  and  broke 
a  lamp  chimney. 

"That's  the  way!"  said  her  husband,  fiercely. 
"  Put  the  pieces  over  here  where  I  can  step  on  em  I " 

"There's  another  one  in  the  bathroom,"  Mrs.  Wig- 
glesworth replied. 

When  she  got  back  with  it  and  the  lamp's  rays 
illumined  the  room,  a  scene  of  desolation  was  made 
manifest.  Mr.  Wigglesworth  had  thrust  himself  into 
a  pair  of  bicycle  trousers  belonging  to  Willie,  one 
arm  was  invested  in  his  wife's  Spring  cloak,  and  he 
sat  in  the  centre  of  a  great  array  of  debris  which,  by 
the  centripetal  force  of  his  hasty  journeying,  had  been 
gathered  in  the  middle  of  the  apartment. 

"Oh,  Elleryl"  wailed  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  appalled 
by  the  sight  presented  to  her  view ;  "  what  have  you 
been  doing?" 

"What  have  I  been  doing? "  repeated  her  husband, 
looking  himself  over  with  strong  disgust.  "  I  'd  like 
to  have  the  answers  to  correspondent's  man  find  out  I 
Whose  trousers  are  these? "  he  yelled,  noting  the  gar- 
ment's extreme  brevity.  "What  kind  of  a  thing's 

357 


How  Wigglesworth 


this  ? "  he  added,  plucking  off  the  Spring  cloak  and 
stamping  on  it. 

"  Why,"  said  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  "that  is  my  cloak, 
you  know ;  and  those  are  Willie's  bicycle  trousers." 

"Well!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  savagely, 
"what  ye  got  me  dressed  up  in  'em  for? "  What  ye 
think  it  is,  a  masquerade  ball?" 

"I  —  I  was  taking  them  up  attic,"  meekly  replied 
Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  to  put  away  for  Winter,  you 
know.  I  only  laid  them  on  the  bureau  over  night. 
I  don't  see  how  you  got  them,  way  on  the  other  side 
of  the  room  so." 

"  I  tell  ye  they  was  right  here  on  my  chair ! "  bullied 
Mr.  Wigglesworth,  "  just  where  I  left  my  things  when 
I  blew  out  the  light.  You  changed  'em,  that 's  what 
you  did." 

"  How  could  I  ?"  protested  his  wife ;  "you  came  to 
bed  last." 

"That's  it  —  that's  the  way  to  argue  1"  snarled 
Mr.  Wigglesworth ;  "  mean  to  say  I  did  it  pro'bly. 
Got  up  in  my  sleep,  likely,  and  went  'round  changing 
'em.  Wigglesworth,  the  great  sleep-walker.  Re- 
markable instance  of  somnanbulism.  Substitutes  a 
pair  of  bicycle  pants  and  appears  in  public.  Going 
to  write  it  up  for  the  papers,  ain't  ye  ? " 

Meantime  he  was  shuffling  out  of  the  offending 
regalia  and  gradually  accumulating,  with  the  assist- 
ance of  his  wife,  his  accustomed  wardrobe.  The  vest 
was  in  the  bathroom,  the  stockings  on  the  bureau, 
one  of  them  having  got  involved  with  a  comb,  and 

358 


Went  to  the  Fire 


his  other  shoe  was  produced,  after  much  thoughtful 
cogitation  by  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  from  the  library, 
where  her  husband  had  slipped  it  off  early  in  the 
evening  for  the  relief  of  a  familiar  corn. 

The  slow  movement  of  the  types  is  not  adequate 
to  express  the  hurried  action  which  characterized 
this  vaudeville  performance.  Over  all  impended  the 
weird,  uncertain  knowledge  that  somewhere  in  town 
valuable  property  —  perhaps  Mr.  Wigglesworth's  own 
—  was  going  up  in  flame  and  smoke. 

"  Get  out ! "  he  cried,  as  his  wife  pressed  a  necktie 
upon  him.  "  What  ye  s  'pose  I  want  that  for  ?  " 

"  You  have  n't  got  any  cuffs,"  pleaded  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth. 

"  Cuff  s  nothing  1 "  snorted  her  husband ;  "what  ye 
think  it  is,  a  Governor's  reception?  Think  it's  a 
church  social,  with  pie,  don't  ye  ? " 

"Hark!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Wigglesworth.  "I 
thought  I  heard  the  fire  engines !  Is  it  the  engines, 
Ellery?" 

"Course  it  is!  "  he  replied,  hurrying  into  his  coat. 
"  Think  it's  an  ice  cream  wagon  this  time  of  night  ? 
Get  out  the  way,  there  1 " 

With  a  parting  roar  of  excitement,  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth  tore  down  the  front  stairs,  and,  with  a  whoop, 
went  clattering  up  the  street.  A  policeman  leaned 
against  a  neighboring  fence — thinking. 

"Where's the  fire?"  ejaculated  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
puffing  violently. 

"Wot  fire's   this?"    the   policeman   calmly   made 

reply. 

359 


Went  to  the  Fire 


When  Mr.  Wiggles  worth  had  slowly  remounted  the 
stairs  his  breath  had  in  a  measure  come  back  to  him. 

"  Is  it  out  ? "  anxiously  queried  his  wife. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  silently  snatched  off  his  clothes 
and  got  into  bed. 

"  Where  was  it,  Ellery  ? "  persisted  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth. 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  dashed  both  his  fists  into  his 
pillow,  and  for  an  instant  the  room  lit  up  with  a  lurid 
flash. 

"  Why,  Ellery,"  sobbed  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  "  I 
should  think  you  would  be  ashamed  to  use  such 
language." 


360 


Chapter  XL 

Hcnv  Wigglestworth 
Made  Butter 


"Alexander,  the   cat,  got  upon    a  chair  and  watched  Mr. 
Wigglesworth  as  he  poured  the  milk  into  the  churn."  —  Page  366 


CHAPTER   XL.  —  Ho<w    Wigglesworth    Made 
Butter 

YA-A-A-H!"  said  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  in  a 
great  tone  of  disgust,  "  where'd  ye  get 
that  butter  ?  Must  have  come  over  in 
the  Mayflower  and  swum  ashore  itself." 

"  I  know  it,"  rejoined  Mrs.  Wiggleswort,  helplessly, 
as  she  poured  the  tea,  "  I  never  saw  anything  like  it. 
Our  regular  butter  man  has  failed  us,  you  know,  and 
this  came  from  the  market." 

"Jail,  you  mean,"  retorted  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  "I 
heard  something  had  broken  out  up  there.  What  ye 
want  to  put  such  grease  on  the  table  for,  anyway? 
Think  I  want  my  neck  dislocated  trying  to  swallow 
that  kind  of  stuff  ?  " 

"I'm  sure,"  pleaded  Mrs.  Wigglesworth,  "I  don't 
see  what  I  can  do." 

" Do !"  echoed  her  husband  in  scorn,  "what  does 
anybody  do  when  they  get  such  stuff  on  hand  ?  Give 
it  to  the  charitable  association,  don't  they  ?  What's 
the  matter  with  feeding  it  to  that  lambrequin  dog  the 
woman  next  door  kisses  before  she  goes  to  bed  ? " 

"Isn't  it  dreadful?"  cried  Mrs.  Wigglesworth, 
staying  the  tea  pot  in  air ;  "  to  think  of  kissing  such 
a  horrid  little  brute." 

"  Why  don't  ye  make  your  own  butter?  "  pursued 
her  husband,  gloomily  jabbing  open  another  biscuit 
with  his  knife. 

363 


Wigglescworth 


"Why,  Ellery  Wigglesworth  !"  exclaimed  his  wife 
putting  down  the  tea  pot  and  looking  aghast. 

"  I  don't  see,"  growled  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  shaking 
his  head  in  an  oracular  manner,  "what  there  is  so 
wonderful  about  that.  When  I  was  a  boy  mother 
always  used  to  make  the  butter.  So  did  Mrs.  Dodley. 
Why  I've  helped  the  Dodley  twins  churn  by  the 
hour.  Me  and  Aleck  Dodley  was  the  best  churners 
in  town,"  concluded  Mr.  Wigglesworth,  boastfully. 

"I  wouldn't  know  the  first  thing  to  do,"  said  his 
wife ;  "I'd  be  sure  to  slop  the  milk  all  over  my  dress. 
I  guess  it  would  be  better  to  buy  the  butter,  Ellery." 

"Oh,  of  course,"  sneered  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
"that's  the  way  —  can't  take  a  suggestion  to  save 
money.  That's  Mrs.  Wigglesworth  all  over — rather 
spend  every  cent  her  hushand  could  earn  than  to  try 
to  practice  a  little  economy  just  because  he  suggested 
the  way  to  do  it.  If  I  had  your  mean  disposition," 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  added  bitterly  as  he  flung  away 
from  the  table,  "  I'd  want  to  go  out  in  the  woods  and 
die." 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  let  fall  a  little  tear  or  two  and 
then  took  the  butter  firmly  in  both  hands  and  bore  it 
to  the  kitchen  where  it  shortly  afterwards  fell  off  the 
refrigerator  and  injured  a  spine  belonging  to  the 
family  cat. 

Concealed  behind  his  paper  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
found  the  butter  question  reverting  to  his  mind  with 
much  insistence.  Visions  of  the  Dodley  twins  and 
the  merry  plunk-plunk  of  the  dasher  came  to  him, 

364 


Made  Butter 

with  all  the  hallowing  association  of  boyhood's  happy 
time.     Mr.  Wiggles  worth's  eyes  glistened. 

"I'm  going  to  run  up  to  Mrs.  Wetherbee's,"  his 
wife  said,  appearing  in  the  door.  "I'll  be  back  be- 
fore be"dtime." 

The  human  mind  moves  at  times  with  extraordinary 
swiftness.  Mr.  Wigglesworth  possessed  that  kind  of 
a  mind  and  no  sooner  was  his  wife  out  of  hearing 
than  he  rushed  over  to  a  woman  next  door  and  bor- 
rowed a  churn  that  she  had  stored  away  in  a  far 
corner  of  the  attic. 

*  "You  are  welcome  to  it,"  said  the  woman  next 
door,  sweetly,  "but  I  didn't  know  you  were  a  butter 
maker,  Mr.  Wigglesworth." 

That  gentleman  grinned. 

"  Sh  1 "  he  said  hoarsely,  "I'm  going  to  surprise  my 
wife.  Oh,  I've  made  thousands  of  pounds  when  I 
was  a  boy.  Don't  say  anything  about  it  —  I'm  going 
to  surprise  my  wife." 

It  was  an  old-fashioned  blue  churn  with  the  dasher 
projecting  through  a  hole  in  the  cover.  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth  set  it  down  on  the  kitchen  floor  and  regarded 
it  with  admiration. 

"  I'll  show  'em  how  to  make  butter  1 "  he  cried,  the 
the  light  of  a  high  purpose  glowing  in  his  face. 

Then  he  looked  into  the  refrigerator  where  several 
pans  of  milk  lay  glistening  in  their  virgin  whiteness. 

"That's  the  stuff  1"  chuckled  Mr.  Wigglesworth 
as  he  pulled  forth  the  pans,  their  contents  flopping 
moistly  against  the  tin  sides  and  occasionally  spring- 

365 


Hoew  Wiggtesworth 


ing  over  and   making  exclamation  marks  down  Mr. 
Wigglesworth's  new  navy  blue  trousers. 

Alexander,  the  cat,  got  up  in  a  chair  and  watched 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  as  he  poured  the  milk  into  the 
churn.  Then  he  grasped  the  dasher  and  made,  a  sud- 
den stroke  that  spirted  a  stream  of  milk  into  his  shirt 
front.  Alexander  did  not  understand  the  remark  that 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  gave  utterance  to,  although  he  had 
heard  it  before,  but  he  had  lived  in  the  family  long 
enough  to  realize  that  this  was  a  fitting  moment  to 
get  out  of  the  chair  and  crawl  under  the  cook-stove, 
and  he  did  so. 

"  Plunk-plunk  1  —  swash-swash  1 "  went  the  dasher. 
Mr.  Wigglesworth  smiled.  How  the  exercise  carried 
him  backward  to  those  halcyon  days.  He  could  seem 
to  hear  again  the  voice  of  Mrs.  Dodley  as  she  called 
back  the  errant  Aleck  and  harnessed  him  anew  to 
his  task. 

Time,  pursuing  a  custom  for  which  it  has  long  been 
celebrated,  went  on.  Plunk-plunk  1  said  the  dasher. 
Swash-swash  I  went  the  turblent  contents  of  the 
churn.  Alexander  gazed  furtively  from  under  the 
stove  but  said  nothing. 

A  number  of  globules  of  perspiration  stepped  out 
on  Mr.  Wigglesworth's  forehead  and  fell  with  a  sharp 
report  to  the  floor. 

"What  ails  the  blamed  old  stuff?"  he  muttered  as 
he  snatched  off  the  cover  and  peered  into  the  churn ; 
"think  I'm  going  to  stand  here  poking  away  at  this 
old  broom  handle  all  night  ?  Why  don't  the  butter 
come  if  it's  going  to  ? " 

366 


Made  Butter 


There  was  no  answer  to  this  interrogation  and  Mr. 
Wigglesworth,  clapping  on  the  cover,  laid  his  blister- 
ing hands  again  to  the  dasher. '  Plunk-plunk  I  it  sang 
monotonously  on,  while  now  and  then  a  sharper  stroke 
than  usual  would  spatter  a  cupful  of  milk  into  Mr. 
Wigglesworth's  countenance,  and  Alexander,  listen- 
ing, would  shrink  still  farther  under  the  stove. 

The  clock,  which  at  first  had  stood  still  with  as- 
tonishment, now  noticed  that  with  each  added  quarter 
hour  the  face  of  Mr.  Wigglesworth  took  on  a  deeper 
purple  hue  and  his  breath  came  in  short  pants. 
Round  and  round  the  kitchen  the  wooded  churn  went 
waltzing,  impelled  by  the  vigor  of  Mr.  Wigglesworth's 
remarks. 

"  Gash-flummux  the  miserable  old  watered  milk ! " 
he  would  yell,  "  why  don't  she  harden  if  she's  going 
to  !  Think's  I'm  a  patent  churn  prob'ly,  painted  yaller  I 
Wigglesworth,  the  new-fashioned  rotary  churn.  But- 
ter made  in  four  minutes.  County  rights  for  sale 
cheap! " 

And  Mr.  Wigglesworth's  voice  rose  with  each 
violent  stroke  of  the  dasher  till  it  ended  in  a  shriek, 
while  his  benumbed  arms  threatened  to  fall  out  at  the 
shoulder. 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  and  the  woman  next  door  met 
by  the  gate. 

"  I  was  coming  over,"  said  the  woman  next  door, 
with  an  innocent  air,  "  to  borrow  some  of  Mr.  Wiggles- 
worth's  butter  ? " 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  lifted  a  pair  of  astonished  eye- 

367 


HCKV  Wigglesworth 


brows  and  they  hastened  into  the  house.  Nervously 
she  flung  open  the  kitchen  door. 

"  That's  the  stuff  I  "  Mr.  Wigglesworth  was  scream- 
ing, apostrophizing  the  churn  and  mashing  it  with 
great  violence  against  the  stove;  "that's  the  way  to 
make  butter  without  straws  1"  and  he  whirled  the 
churn  suddenly  about  and  rammed  into  the  set  tubs 
with  it ;  "butter  of  all  kinds  constantly  on  hand  1 "  he 
shouted,  kicking  the  churn  with  both  feet  while  the 
procession  was  revolving  on  its  axis ;  "  hand-made 
butter  furnished  for  summer  resorts  I "  he  shrieked 
as  the  heavily  loaded  churn  nipped  him  against  the 
refrigerator  with  great  violence,  and  then  with  a  con- 
cluding yell  of  rage  he  gripped  the  dasher  and  flung 
the  churn  aloft,  when  the  cover  pulled  out  and  the 
milk  with  a  cool  gesture  emptied  itself  over  the  top  of 
Mr.  Wigglesworth's  bald  organ  of  thought. 

"Why,  Ellery!"  cried  his  wife,  standing  horror- 
stricken,  while  the  woman  next  door  peered  fascinat- 
edly over  her  shoulder, 

"  Don't  you  Ellery  me ! "  shouted  Mr.  Wigglesworth, 
shaking  his  dripping  fists.  "  Next  time  you  get  me 
to  make  your  gash-flummuxed  old  butter  you'll  know 
it." 

The  woman  next  door  whispered  in  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth's  ear. 

"Ellery,"  said  that  lady,  "where  did  you  get  your 
milk?" 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  glared  at  her  fearfully. 

"  Get  it  ?  "  he  sneered,  "  got  it  out  of  the  refriger- 

368 


Made  Butter 


ator,  of  course.  Where  d'ye  s'pose  ?  Think  I  got  it 
out  of  the  pump,  pro'bly  ?  Reckon  it  was  sent  by 
mail  postpaid  on  receipt  of  price,  don't  ye  ? " 

Mrs.  Wigglesworth  laughed. 

"That  was  skim  milk,"  she  said,  with  an  air  of 
importance ;  "you  ought  to  have  had  cream." 

Mr.  Wigglesworth  dashed  up  stairs  to  the  bathroom 
and  for  half  an  hour  the  thunder  of  his  observations 
reverberated  through  the  house. 

"Good  night,"  said  the  woman  next  door  with 
great  sweetness  as  she  took  leave  of  Mrs.  Wiggles- 
worth.  "  I  can  let  you  have  a  ball  of  butter  in  the 
morning  if  you  are  out." 

Gradually  the  sound  of  Mr.  Wigglesworth  died 
away,  while  Alexander,  laughing  to  himself  in  a  soft 
manner,  stole  out  from  the  stove  and  lapped  con- 
tentedly at  the  milky  way  until  morning. 


369 


IX  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  UBHARY  FACILITY 


A     000128159     1 


